


Take a Recount

by BlueTwilight



Series: Still Counting [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Horror, Disabled Character, Disabled Reader, Disturbing Themes, Nonbinary Frisk, Other, Player-Insert, Post-Pacifist Route, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader-Insert, Selectively Mute Frisk, Sign Language, Suggestive Themes, Suicidal Thoughts, nonbinary reader, read the first author's notes for more tag info
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 16:40:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 53
Words: 248,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8021293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueTwilight/pseuds/BlueTwilight
Summary: In the final installment of the series, you and Sans struggle to keep your heads above water when the whole world seems intent on dragging you down.PART ONE: INTEGRITY - Chapters 1-6PART TWO: JUSTICE - Chapters 7-15PART THREE: KINDNESS - Chapters 16-30PART FOUR: PERSEVERANCE - Chapters 31-33PART FIVE: PATIENCE - Chapters 34-41PART SIX: BRAVERY - Chapters 42-50PART SEVEN: DETERMINATION - Chapters 51-54





	1. Out of the Frying Pan and into the Void

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again ;)
> 
> If you have not read the first two fics in this series, “Tally Up Your Sins” and “Count Your Blessings,” I’mma stop you right here. Please go read those first!
> 
> The tags for this fic are bad and I should feel bad, but I really can’t go into any more detail without spoiling anything. If you thought the “suicide” tags on the previous fics were spoilery, then these would be even more so. I would recommend you just use your own discretion; you should know by now what kind of content I write. Please note that, while the first two fics were rated “teen,” this one is rated “mature.” So make of that what you will.
> 
> That said, if you are really concerned, you can always ask me privately if certain triggers or squicks you have will come up later in the fic. My tumblr url is “bluewuf,” and there is a link to it in the end notes of this fic. You can send me an ask or message there. However, please do not send an anonymous ask, because I have no way of answering those privately. If you need a different method of privately contacting me, leave a comment here and we can work something out.
> 
> Even though I’m making a big deal out of this, it’s really not that bad in my opinion. There are far more disturbing fics on this site; I just really want to cover my bases.
> 
> With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy the fic! As you can see in the summary, it’s split into parts (which are not going to be equal in length). I’ll be revealing more information in the summary as we go along ;) As is traditional, if I had to guess how many chapters there’ll be, I’d say somewhere around 40. So buckle up for a long ride XD

PART 1 - INTEGRITY

\---

“Are you sure you’ll do a good job?”

“‘Course I’m sure… Frankly, I’m offended you’d ever doubt me.”

“But you’re… y’know… a skeleton. It’s not like you’ve ever done this before.”

“How hard could it be?”

“That’s not the most reassuring thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

You fidgeted in your seat, twisting to look over your shoulder at Sans. He stood behind you, one hand on the back of the kitchen chair you were sitting in while the other wielded an electric razor. He looked down at you and gave you a mischievous grin.

Yeah, not reassuring at all.

“Aw, c’mon, stop squirming. You’re the one who wanted me to do it… If I do a bad job, we can just ask Tori to clean it up for ya.” You pondered the offer, then nodded determinedly.

“Okay… Just cut it off. I can’t stand watching it fall out anymore.” You turned away from Sans and closed your eyes tightly, clutching the bottom of your seat. You hated this, but… It had to be done. Ever since you’d been brought back into your body, your hair just refused to stay on your head. You thought it’d stop falling out after you’d been alive for a couple days, but it’d been a week now and you still couldn’t run your fingers through it without pulling out big clumps. It just looked sickly; you couldn’t go outside looking like that.

There were a lot of things about you that made you look like you were… well… recently deceased. You were as thin as a rail, your fingernails were black and blue, and then the hair. At least that last one, you could change.

The buzz of the electric razor brought you out of your thoughts. You flinched as you felt it press up against the back of your neck, then again when you felt the tickle of hair falling onto your shoulders. Sans’ free hand came up to rub the back of your neck, and you relaxed instinctively at his touch.

It’d be fine… It was just hair, after all.

You sat as still as you could for the rest of the shave, staring glumly at the hair as it fell onto the towel you’d laid out on the floor. Sans actually did a pretty good job, as far as you could tell from where you sat. He was careful and only nicked you once as he was maneuvering around your ear.

When it was all over, he clicked the razor off and swiped a hand over your now-smooth head. 

“Pretty good, if I do say so myself,” he boasted. You brought an anxious hand up to feel for yourself. Yup, the hair was definitely gone. The strange sensation of cold air touching your bare scalp caused you to shiver. Sans leaned over your shoulder so he could look at your nervous expression. “Wanna go look in the mirror?” Your face scrunched up reflexively. You generally avoided mirrors at all costs, nowadays. But, at the same time, you did want to make sure Sans hadn’t left any stray tufts of hair, or anything.

“I guess.” You grabbed your cane from where it was leaning against the table. Sans took a small step back. Close enough to catch you if need be, but not close enough to be considered hovering. You noticed this, but it didn’t bother you as much as it might’ve under different circumstances. The possibility of you falling while trying to get up from a chair was much greater now than it had been before, so you appreciated having Sans nearby.

Carefully, you used the table to push yourself up. You made a face as your hips cracked and popped painfully, the artificial joints groaning in protest. The sensation was not unfamiliar, though it happened a lot more often and to a greater extreme now than before you’d died. This was the case for many of your physical ailments. Not for the first time, you wondered if you wouldn’t be struggling this much if you hadn’t been disabled to begin with. 

It made you feel strangely guilty, at least when your other monster friends were around. For the most part, they hadn’t known that your human body was, for lack of a better word, dysfunctional from the start. It just hadn’t seemed important back when you were Orion. Now, though, it was just another barrier to your healing; a process which everyone had become heavily invested in. In your life, you usually made it a point not to feel like you had to apologize for being disabled, but this was an exception.

You tried to put it from your mind as you focused on limping to the bathroom, doing your best to ignore the twinges in your ankles. Sans didn’t follow you… At least, not at first. You had a feeling he’d come to check on you if you took too long.

Even though you knew, intellectually, that your hair was gone, it was still a shock to see it. Your bald head didn’t look terrible; you had a mole on your scalp, but at least you didn’t have any other weird lumps or bumps. You reached up with your free hand to touch it again, and shivered. It felt extra sensitive, but not bad, necessarily. Just different.

Inevitably, your focus shifted from your baldness to other unsavory parts of your body. You frowned at your sunken-in cheeks, the dark bags under your eyes, and your flaking skin. You brought your hand down from your head and brushed it over your ribs instead. You could feel every bone, even through your hoodie. Your stomach, which had been bloated for a couple of days at the beginning, was now concave. You’d been trying to eat, if for no other reason than to stave off your friends’ incessant nagging, but you couldn’t get anything down other than broth. You’d only just started being able to handle the occasional cracker or two.

It didn’t even feel like you anymore. You still caught yourself thinking of it as _the_ body, not _yours_ , even though you now lived in it again. The worst part, worse than the pain and the starvation, was feeling the echoes of Orion, even though they were long gone. You felt pain - _actual_ pain - in your wings. Which you didn’t have. You kept ducking under doorways when it was no longer necessary, and you caught Sans doing the same. You would have an interesting or funny thought, and would expect Sans to respond in your mind. When he didn’t, there’d always be that sharp jolt of panic; fear that he’d left you again, that he wasn’t coming back this time... Until you remembered. 

Just as you’d predicted, Sans poked his head into the bathroom after a couple of minutes. You didn’t try to patronize him by lying; he may have done a good job, but you hated the haircut. And he knew it, you were sure.

After a moment of silence, he walked up behind you and slipped his hands around your waist. You watched him from the mirror, and you couldn’t help but to smile at the sight of him craning his neck so he could place his chin on your shoulder.

“Welcome to the club, baldie.” He looked up and sighed as though lamenting his own bare head. You tried to picture him with a full head of hair, and laughed at how ridiculous the image was.

“Wow, thanks.” Your sarcasm earned you a pout and then, with a glint of mischief in his eye, he pulled one hand away from your waist and used it to yank your hood up over your head.

You yelped indignantly and spent a good few minutes trying in vain to bat him off. In the midst of your play-fighting, you accidentally dropped your cane. But Sans supported you enough that you wouldn’t have even noticed its absence if it weren’t for the loud clattering sound it made against the linoleum. 

A loud, rhythmic knock on the front door broke the two of you from your scuffle. Sans gave you time to lean against the vanity before bending down to pick up your cane for you. He silently motioned for you to stay before darting out into the living room. You leaned against the bathroom doorframe and listened nervously.

“Who’s there?” Sans asked gruffly. It was as good of an Orion impression as he could manage. From the other side of the door, you heard a muffled, but familiar voice.

“Relax, Sans, it is only I.” You heard the click of a lock and Sans telling the guest to “come in.” Even so, you didn’t come out of your hiding spot until the door had closed again.

“I thought we agreed to use the secret knock?” You rounded the corner in time to see Sans’ strained smile in the dim light of the living room. Dim, because all of the shades in the house were drawn, and he hadn’t taken the time to turn on the light.

“Was that not it?” The giant monster, who was shrugging off his coat, frowned in confusion. “I am sorry, I must have forgotten. I did not mean to cause you undue stress.”

“It’s okay, Asgore,” you said as you flipped on the light switch, “No harm done.” The King’s eyes widened a little upon seeing your new haircut, but he didn’t comment.

“It is good to see you both,” he said with a gentle smile, “Sans, I have come to give you this. Doctor Alphys finished it for you late last night.” Asgore pulled something out of his pants pocket, which you recognized as a cell phone. One of the bulky, cumbersome kinds that monsters tended to carry around.

One of the many unanticipated problems you’d faced after separating was who would get all of Orion’s things. Not that they’d had much in the way of material possessions, but the phone was a big one. It was made even more valuable considering it still, to this day, held all of Gaster’s entries. Or, at least, the ones the three of you had managed to find. As soon as the problem became known, Sans had immediately offered the device to you. You weren’t sure what that said about him. Not knowing what he was thinking during that moment was maddening. You hadn’t pressed him to tell you, though, and simply took the phone for yourself without further comment.

Other than that, most everything else just stayed in Orion’s old room while you and Sans shared the smaller one. The computer, the framed picture, Orion’s robe… Even Sans’ original, ripped up jacket still hung in the closet. The two of you just didn’t have the heart to move anything.

Sans reached out and took the new phone, flipping it on before flopping heavily onto the couch.

“Thanks,” he said to Asgore as he shot you a knowing look. Both of you knew that the King wouldn’t have come here just to give Sans his phone; he would’ve left that to Alphys, who already came to visit you daily. There had to be some other reason he was there.

“So…” Asgore began, right on cue, “I do not mean to rush you, but I have been wondering when the two of you planned to make your presence known to the public.” You grimaced and shuffled your weight between your two sore feet. Sans immediately stood back up and walked over to stand near you.

“Haven’t thought about it, why?” Sans lied. The truth was that both of you had thought about it extensively, to the point where you came up with secret knocks so that you’d know it was your friends at the door and not the guards. Asgore sighed deeply.

“I understand that the two of you have been taking a well-deserved rest, but I believe it would be in your best interests not to put this off much longer. The humans grow more suspicious by the day, and it would be best to reveal yourselves to them before it becomes a problem,” Asgore addressed you both, but looked mainly at you as he talked. You didn’t imagine that Sans’ presence would be questioned much, but your sudden appearance was guaranteed to cause a stir.

You’d been wanting to wait until you looked halfway alive before talking to any humans, but that seemed like it was going to take more time than you had available. Enduring questions about your physical condition as well as your disappearance would be exhausting, but impossible to avoid. 

You glanced over at Sans, who gave you a lazy nod. At least the two of you had a plan; and a rather good one, you thought. Sans wouldn’t let you do this alone, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Alright… Maybe this afternoon. It’s good that it’s a weekday, because at least we don’t have to deal with those stupid weekend guards…”

“Actually, I was thinking that you may want to go out there right now,” Asgore cut off your rambling. You and Sans both gave him identical, questioning looks. “It is just that I heard word from Undyne that the protesters are back at the border… The same group that gave you the poster on your front door.”

It took you a moment to figure out what he was implying. When you finally did, you turned and reflexively grabbed Sans’ arm.

“Sans, my parents! They might be there!” His eyes widened as he caught on a little later than you. He guessed what you were going to ask before you could get the words out.

“You sure you wanna go? You don’t have to meet them right now; there’ll be other opportunities, we don’t have to rush…” He searched your expression, then nodded. “Alright, I’ll open a shortcut.”

You felt a tiny spark of his magic in the air, then sensed the too-familiar feeling of a shortcut opening to your right. You could’ve probably found your way to it on your own, but Sans took ahold of your free hand to pull you toward it anyway.

“I expect I will be summoned to the border shortly.” There was a glint of humor in Asgore’s eyes as he spoke. “Good luck, both of you.”

“Thanks,” you and Sans said at the same time, though it had happened often enough in the past week that no one present was too surprised by the phenomenon anymore. With that said, the two of you took a step sideways and disappeared from the living room.

You were startled to hear loud yelling as soon as you emerged among the trees. You let go of Sans’ hand and stumbled through the undergrowth, straining to listen for your parents’ voices.

“Justice for our children! Justice for our children!” The cluster of devoted protesters shouted over and over, their voices muffled by the tightly-packed trees. You struggled toward the sound, hearing Sans curse loudly behind you as his leg became ensnared in a bramble. You didn’t wait up for him.

You gasped as you broke into an artificial clearing. The border made a clear-cut line, several meters thick, straight through the otherwise dense forest. You came to a sudden stop, your cane digging into the slightly damp ground as you grabbed onto a nearby tree for added support. The protesters were there, just on the other side of the border. They seemed more determined than last time… And more organized, too. They shouted together, holding up signs even though, for all they knew, there was no one there to read them. You weren’t sure if it was just your smaller, less intimidating perspective, but it seemed like the atmosphere was more aggressive this time around. Regardless, there were definitely more of them, as far as sheer numbers went.

All rational thought flew out the window when you caught sight of a familiar figure, lined up shoulder to shoulder with the other protesters.

“Mom!” you cried as loud as you could, your voice straining with the effort. Dozens of heads turned, but only one gave a wordless cry in return.

You stumbled into the clearing, very nearly tripping over your own feet. Before you could fall, strong arms wrapped around you in a hug.

“Oh my god… oh my god…” Your mom sobbed as she squeezed the life out of you. You breathed in shuddering gasps of air, inhaling the scent of her hair. Over her shoulder, you could just make out another figure running towards you. Your vision was blurry, but you knew who it was right away.

“Dad…” you muttered, your voice muffled. You let your cane fall to the ground so that you could wrap both arms around each of your parents, confident in the knowledge that they’d support your weight. For only the third time in your entire life, you saw your dad cry.

Time stopped as you stood there, hugging each other. You felt so smothered in love, but in the best way possible. For a moment, all of those crazy months living in the Underground and being Orion just washed away. You felt like a child again.

Eventually, your mom pulled away a fraction and let out a wet, tearful laugh.

“Baby, what happened to your hair?” You wiped tears from your eyes as you laughed at the ridiculousness of it. Your dad, however, frowned. He pulled you away from Mom and held you at arm’s length, concern written all over his face. 

“Why do you… you look…”

“Dead?” you quipped wryly, forgetting that no one here would get the joke. You took your first good look at your parents and found that they didn’t look too great, either. Your mom’s curly hair was sticking up wildly in all directions, while your dad looked like he’d lost a lot of weight.

Suddenly, from behind you came the sound of someone crashing through the forest. You and your little family all turned to face the noise, your dad still supporting your thin frame by the shoulders. 

Sans burst into the clearing inelegantly; hopping on one foot while he struggled to shake the other free of some clingy ferns. Your dad pulled you toward him sharply, cutting you off balance and causing you to crash hard into his chest.

“Get away!” your mom yelled shrilly, and the crowd behind you began to murmur angrily as they closed ranks around you. Sans’ hopeful smile became strained, and fearful sweat formed on his skull as the human mob surged toward him.

“DON’T HURT HIM!” you shrieked and pushed yourself away from your dad, falling flat on your ass when you succeeded. Everyone stopped and stared at you as you snatched up your cane. Your heart was pounding out of your chest; you wanted nothing more than to stand in front of Sans as a human shield, but you had no hope of getting to your feet by yourself. Still, you struggled to stand and, predictably, fell back onto your butt. You were so frustrated, you wanted to scream.

While everyone else was frozen in shock, you heard the footsteps of someone approaching behind you. Familiar arms slipped under your own and lifted you easily, setting you on your feet and making sure you were stable before letting go. 

You panted hard, as if you’d just run a marathon. You turned your head to glance back at Sans. He was standing just over your shoulder, mostly obscured by your taller frame. That confirmation made you feel a little calmer.

“He’s my… He saved me. From the Underground.” You forced yourself to face forward toward your parents and the semicircle of strangers behind them. “I got lost, and he’s been looking for me this whole time. He saved my life.”

Silence reigned. The expressions on the faces of the parents, siblings, and friends of the other missing people were wildly varied. Many were glaring daggers at Sans, unconvinced by your story. Some were staring at you blankly, still shocked that a human had come out of the Underground. Still others looked hopeful, as though thinking that maybe… just _maybe_... their loved one might still be alive, too. Those were the most heartbreaking; you already knew that no more humans were ever going to come out of the Underground. Truthfully, the Underground wasn’t big enough to get lost in. If there’d ever been a human hiding down there, someone would’ve found out by now.

“Honey, come here.” Your mom was the first to speak up, her voice a mere whisper. She reached out a hand to you. “Let’s go home.”

Every now and then, a moment would come along that just _felt_ pivotal. The seconds would stretch on forever, and you could almost see how a single word or gesture might alter the course of your life forever. They seemed to be happening to you a lot recently, and here again was one of those moments. Sans tensed up behind you as though he felt it, too. 

“No.” It was no contest, if you were being honest. As much as your own refusal hurt your soul, there was just no way you were going to leave Sans. You’d already promised him you’d stay and, even if you hadn’t, you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him, anyway. 

“Don’t be ridiculous… Come home with us,” Dad spoke with a sort of desperate authority you’d never heard in his voice before. He took a step toward you, and you and Sans took simultaneous steps back. The crowd began to whisper among themselves. Already, you heard the words “brainwashing” and “Stokholm” being thrown around.

“No. I’m staying here, with the monsters.” Before anyone could react, you heard heavy, sprinting footsteps approaching. Everyone turned to look at the guard who was running down the border, one hand resting on the holstered gun on his belt.

“Everyone needs to get back to their side of-” Charlie cut himself off when he caught sight of you and Sans. He came to a sudden halt, his eyes flickering between you and the crowd. He sounded almost exasperated when he asked, “Alright, what the hell’s going on here?”

“That thing kidnapped my child!” You gasped in surprise when you heard your mom speak. Did she really not believe you?

“Mom! That’s not what happened!” you snapped far more aggressively than you’d meant to. You turned to Charlie and explained, “Sans saved my life, he never kidnapped me!” You were suddenly reminded of that time Sans locked you in his shed, but pushed the thought from your mind. That was different; no one needed to know about that.

“Bullshit!” your mom yelled back, and you flinched. “Look at yourself! My god, you look starved! Did they starve you? I swear to god…”

“Okay, okay…” Charlie tried to get between you, but you stepped around him.

“I was lost! I already told you-”

“OKAY!” the guardsman yelled and threw a hand out to stop you from advancing further. Silence fell over the crowd again. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Daujatas running toward the group from the other direction. Charlie took a deep breath and continued,

“Here’s what’s gonna happen. You two,” He looked back at you and Sans, and both of you gulped, “Are comin’ with me. The rest of you are gonna get your asses back on the other side of the border.” There was some murmuring and shuffling feet, but no one moved. “Come on, now! Did I stutter? Get movin’!” Charlie spread his arms out and ushered people back. You couldn’t bear to watch your parent’s anguished faces as they were forced away from you, so you turned to look at Sans instead.

“You okay?” you asked, even though you knew he was physically fine. He nodded, but said nothing. He had this faraway look in his eyes, and it scared you a little.

Once Daujatas arrived, Charlie whispered something to her before leaving her the task of wrangling the humans. He turned back to you and Sans and gestured for you to follow him. He may have said something, but neither of you heard it over the loud, angry protests of the humans being herded away.

With Charlie in the lead, the three of you walked down the middle of the border in silence, toward the guard tower that loomed ominously in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you leave, check out the new fanart for this series!
> 
> @Awkwardtypo on AO3 gave us [their version of Reed with Orion](http://i.imgur.com/83FLmgE.png) and @allywiggen on tumblr made [Orion and Frisk!](http://allywiggen.tumblr.com/post/150158750583/fanart-for-the-undertale-fanfiction-count-your) Big thanks to both of you... I love both pieces dearly <3


	2. Your Silence Will Not Protect You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I want to inform you of a discord server that some nice people have set up. You can go there to chat about Still Counting as well as some other Undertale fics if they interest you. I hang out there sometimes, as well as other fic authors (most of whom are way more popular than me, lol)
> 
> Anyway, the link to that server is [here](https://discord.gg/u5DbXWg), so come check it out!

You and Sans sat in adjacent chairs, both slumped over and panting. Between walking over to the Northwest tower and climbing the excessive number of stairs, you were exhausted. You wouldn’t have made it up the stairs at all if Sans hadn’t started levitating you when Charlie wasn’t looking. But that had exhausted him, in turn; so between the two of you, you were barely able to make it up to the top.

Both of you followed Charlie with your eyes as he paced around the room, talking on some kind of old landline phone.

“Yes, a human, that’s what I- yes, and they’re with a skeleton. What? No, not the big one… Not the other big one, either. I’ve never seen this guy before,” Charlie looked over at Sans and held the receiver away from his ear. “Who are you, again?”

“The name’s Sans,” he said with a weak wave. Charlie started to bring the phone back up, but aborted the motion halfway through as realization dawned on his face.

“Wait, you mean like, Orion’s brother?”

“Half-brother, actually,” Sans corrected, and Charlie continued to stare at him for a long second before shaking his head incredulously. An irritated voice on the other line pulled Charlie’s attention back to the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m still here…”

“You okay?” Sans asked quietly as he nudged you. You sighed and nodded.

“I just wanna go home… I’m sick of this already.” He frowned. His hand twitched as though he wanted to reach out to you. You’d never actually talked about it, but both of you silently knew not to show affection like that in front of the humans. It would just lead to awkward questions, of which there were far too many already.

“Alright, roger that,” Charlie said with finality before hanging up the ancient-looking phone. He crossed his arms and stared down at you. You stared back.

“Reives and Wolfe are coming by,” the officer broke the silence first, pulling out the chair across from you and taking a seat. “They’re the ones in charge of all this monster business.” He made a vague hand gesture, and you and Sans shot each other identical grins. Not because either of you much cared to see Reives or Wolfe, but because you were both fond of Charlie. You were glad he was the one who’d found you first.

“So…” The man in question shrugged dramatically, his hands falling onto his lap. “Mind explaining what the hell happened here? I know the big FBI hotshots will be here soon, but, if you wanted to let me in on the story first, I can pretty much guarantee I’ll be more understanding than them.” You and Sans looked at each other again before you started telling your fabricated story.

“I fell into a hole that led to the Underground. I met Sans, and he told me which way the Barrier was. I tried to find it, but I got lost along the way… When he heard that I was missing, Sans went looking for me. He found me eventually, and here we are.” It was a simple, yet foolproof story… At least, as far as you and Sans could tell.

“Fell into a hole, huh?” Charlie scratched his chin. “So, those other missing people… They fall into this hole, too? Are there people still lost down there?”

“No!” You made the mistake of speaking too quickly, and Charlie raised his brows at you. You took a deep breath. “I mean, I doubt it. I didn’t see any other humans down there, and neither has Sans. Right, Sans?” You kicked him under the table, since it seemed like he was falling asleep. Levitating you up the stairs must’ve been even more exhausting than you’d thought.

“Yeah, uh… If there was anyone down there… Any humans, I mean… I would’ve known about it.” Charlie shot him a hard stare. You had the distinct, prickling feeling that he knew you weren’t telling the whole truth, but he had no way to prove it. Finally, he sighed and rubbed his face.

“Alright… This is gonna be hell, but alright. Speaking of which…” Charlie looked over your shoulder as you noticed the sound of distant humming. You and Sans turned in your seats simultaneously and saw that a familiar helicopter was approaching the camp.

“Well, this calls for a second cup of coffee.” Charlie’s chair scraped on the floor as he stood, turning his back on you to mess with an old coffee maker in the corner. “You two want any?”

“Yes,” you and Sans exclaimed eagerly at the same time. Charlie snorted and, without another word, pulled out two more mugs.

The three of you sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the sound of the helicopter out the window as it drowned out the grinding noise of the coffee maker. The break from talking was much needed. You couldn’t resist crossing your arms on the table and laying your head down on them. You heard Sans scoot his chair closer to you, then heard the creak of the same chair as he leaned back on it. You didn’t raise your head for anything until the sound of something being set on the table in front of you startled you out of your brief respite.

You were about to be irritated until the smell of coffee hit your nose. Charlie chuckled at your reaction, then handed Sans his own cup. With no heed for how scaldingly hot the drink was, Sans downed half of it in one gulp. Meanwhile, you sipped your own mug slowly, shaking your head when Charlie offered you creamer. He shrugged and proceeded to pour a healthy amount into his own coffee, then emptied two packets of sugar in it, to boot.

By the time all three of you were settled, you heard loud footsteps on the stairs outside.

“Here we go,” Charlie warned you as he went to sit in the chair in the corner behind you.

Suddenly, three imposing figures burst into the room. First came Reives and Wolfe, both of whom looked undeniably frazzled. They were dressed smartly, but you could tell they’d been in a rush. Reives’ tie was askew and Wolfe had missed a few strands of hair in her bun. Behind them came Asgore, who was only imposing due to his size. He gave you a reassuring smile as the two agents stared at you, dumbfounded.

“Hi.” You forced yourself to smile at the humans; after all, for all they knew, you had no reason to dislike them. As soon as you spoke, Reives snapped out of it and held out his hand to you, reaching over Sans to do so.

“Hello, I’m Agent Victor Reives… And may I just say that we are all so glad to see you alive and well.” You shook his hand firmly, despite still being exhausted. Reives took Charlie’s vacated seat across from you as Wolfe approached you with her outstretched hand.

“Agent Amelia Wolfe, pleasure to meet you.” The warm grin on her face was almost unsettling; you’d never seen her smile before. The difference between how the agents treated you versus how they’d treated Orion was night and day. As she took the seat across from Sans, you looked over at Asgore expectantly.

“Oh! And I am King Asgore… The leader of the monsters.” He winked as the two of you shook, his huge paw completely engulfing your hand.

“And… Who are you, exactly?” Reives finally addressed Sans, who was stiff with tension beside you. You pressed your foot against his own, just as a reminder that he wasn’t alone. His shoulders relaxed a fraction. He put on his signature grin.

“I’m Sans… Sans the skeleton. Found this human here wandering around in the Underground, and figured you might want ‘em back.” He nudged you with his elbow and winked at the agents. You snorted, unable to fully contain your laughter. Reives and Wolfe watched the exchange between the two of you with incredulity.

“So… Wait. Why don’t you explain to us what happened,” Reives asked you in a falsely kind voice. You took a deep breath and began to tell them exactly what you’d told Charlie fifteen minutes earlier, pausing to take a sip from your coffee every now and then.

“You fell into a hole…” Reives mused with a frown once you’d finished, tapping his foot on the ground. He forced a smile onto his face as he asked, “Do you think you could show us where this hole is on a map?”

“No, sorry,” you replied with ease, having anticipated that someone would ask you this eventually, “I got kinda lost before I came across it… My friends and I were hiking and I got separated from the group.” There was a pause before Reives commented,

“You seem to have a habit of getting lost.” When you simply shrugged, he leaned back and continued, “Well, we are certainly glad you are safe now, but you must be exhausted. I believe your parents are still waiting by the border… We’ll go track them down, get you back home, and-”

“I’m not going back home.” A dangerous silence fell over the guard tower. Even Charlie, still sitting in his corner, raised his brows at you in surprise. “I’m staying here. I can see how badly you’re all treating the monsters, and I want to help them. I want to be your ambassador.” You looked up at Asgore, who smiled proudly down at you.

“You can’t really mean that…” Wolfe spoke for the first time since introducing herself, “You need rest, and to be with family.” Your heart ached at the mention of family, but you were steadfast.

“No… What I need to do is stay in the camp, where I’m needed. This is so much more important than just me.” You glared from person to person, daring someone else to challenge you. Reives took you up on that silent offer,

“You can’t just… Surely King Asgore wouldn’t want a human living among his people, isn’t that right?” He looked up at Asgore, who scratched his chin in mock-thoughtfulness.

“On the contrary, I think this could be a great opportunity. I mean no offense to you, agents, but I feel that having a mediator who is sympathetic to both humans and monsters may benefit everyone.” Reives and Wolfe were clearly taken aback by this. Asgore then turned to you with a bright smile and said, “You are more than welcome to stay in our village, if that is what you desire.” You grinned back at him.

“Thanks, Asgore.” Reives shook his head and frowned.

“I’m sorry, but you cannot go through with this. You clearly need a hospital… A _human_ hospital… And, even if you weren’t as ill as you obviously are, we can’t have a human staying in the camp.”

“But Frisk is staying here,” you pointed out right away, crossing your arms defiantly, “They’re human, so why can’t I stay, too?” Before Reives could open his mouth, you added, “And I already told you… I don’t need a hospital, I just need rest. I can get that in the camp just as well as anywhere else.” The agent’s mouth formed a thin, angry line. It was difficult, but you didn’t break eye contact. A few tense seconds ticked by before he responded,

“Well… I see you’ve already considered every argument I could make. You’ve thought about this extensively, haven’t you?” You shrugged; you couldn’t really deny that. But the way he said it made it sound incriminating. “Well, if no one has any other objections…” He glanced over at Wolfe, who gave a helpless little shrug. “I suppose there is no reason why you can’t stay, though I strongly suggest that you come with us to the nearest town to get checked out by a doctor.” You shook your head vehemently.

“No need, but thanks for the offer.” You feared that, if you left the camp, they’d prevent you from reentering somehow. Plus, who knew what kind of weird things a doctor would find wrong with your technically still-dead body.

“If you insist,” Reives said with a plastered-on smile, “In that case, there is no real reason for us to stay.” He stood. Wolfe followed his lead. “Don’t go causing any trouble, now.” The way he said it made you think it was meant to be a joke, but it sounded vaguely threatening at the same time. You grinned and retorted,

“I can’t promise anything.” Reives laughed tensely, but he was the only one.

“Well, I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other soon.” You nodded and shook the agent’s outstretched hand again. Reives tipped his head to Asgore as he passed. Wolfe followed him out of the tower without further acknowledging anyone.

As soon as those two left, the atmosphere of the room seemed to deflate. Everyone let out the breath they’d been holding, and you and Sans visibly sunk into your seats.

“Well, at least that’s over,” Charlie said what you all were thinking. You downed the rest of your now-cold coffee. “Do you guys want me to walk you back to camp, or…?”

“That will be unnecessary, but thank you, officer.” Asgore placed a hand on your shoulder, and the other on Sans’. “I will walk these two back home.” Charlie shrugged and leaned back on his creaky chair.

“Suits me just fine. See you guys around.”

“Undoubtedly,” Asgore said as he pushed the two of you forward, nudging you out of your chairs. You and Sans both groaned in protest, but stood compliantly. 

“See ya, Charlie,” you said in parting as you picked up your cane and limped to the exit. Sans merely gave the officer a lazy wave.

“Yeah, yeah… Get some rest,” he muttered as he watched the three of you walk out the door, leaving him wondering when he’d told you his name.

“I feel that could’ve gone worse,” Asgore commented behind you once you were far enough away that you couldn’t be overheard. You were in front, struggling down the stairs as you clung to the railing like a lifeline. You felt bad for holding everyone up, but neither Asgore nor Sans rushed you.

“Coulda gone better, too,” Sans remarked. You grunted in agreement, too focused on not tripping to give a more coherent response. You caught a glimpse of Reives and Wolfe below you, walking along the border before turning sharply and disappearing into the trees. You sighed.

“Why are they so…” You didn’t even know how to finish that sentence. Bigoted? Stubborn? Set in their ways?

“They are doing what they think is best for their people.” You looked up at Asgore briefly before focusing back on the stairs. The King’s voice continued to rumble behind you, “And they are your people, as well… You would do well to remember that in the coming months.” You frowned, though no one could see your expression.

“Why do we have to divide ourselves up like that… It’s not your people or my people. We’re all just _people_.” Behind you, you heard Asgore hum lowly. You shot him another glance and saw that he was staring straight ahead, looking contemplative.

“In an ideal world, you would be right. But, like it or not, that is not how the humans see it. Or the other monsters, for that matter. There are differences between us, and we cannot help but to notice them. It is how we choose to respond to those differences that will matter, in the end.”

You chewed your lip and kept your eyes cast downward. You didn’t much like being put in the same category as Reives, Wolfe, and all of the other humans. After all, not only were you not prejudiced like most of them, but you knew what it was like to be a monster. You’d _lived_ it. But, at the same time, you still benefited from your humanity. The way you’d been treated up in that tower had proved that already. In under two hours, Sans had been accused of kidnapping and brainwashing you, then had been largely ignored by the agents. Even Asgore, the King of monsters, had hardly been acknowledged. It wasn’t fair, and you knew that, but knowing it didn’t stop people from treating you better.

As you mulled that over, you felt Sans’ hand bump yours on the railing. You looked back at him and saw his pained smile. It seemed as though he’d anticipated this.

“Can we go see if my parents are still here?” You were nearing the bottom of the stairs and were itching to forget all about this in favor of seeking some mindless parental comfort.

“Sure thing, kid,” Sans said, but Asgore hesitated.

“I think I will head back home… I do not wish to impose.” You shrugged, silently thanking God that you were almost at the bottom of this endless staircase.

“Whatever you want to do.” You touched down on solid ground, with Asgore and Sans following behind you.

“In that case, I will see you both back at camp.” The King turned toward camp, hesitated, and said over his shoulder, “Good luck with your parents.”

With that, you parted ways, you and Sans beginning the slow walk down the Western border toward where you last saw the protesters. You stumbled often over the tall foliage, and you were trembling with exhaustion.

“Want me to carry you?” Sans offered, but you took one look at him and shook your head.

“No… You’ll just drop me,” you teased, but it was kind of true. Sans didn’t look much better off than you. After having nearly endless magical energy as Orion, he was unused to the limits of his monster soul. He could run out of juice unexpectedly, and you didn’t feel like landing ass-first on the ground again.

The whole endeavor turned out to be pointless, anyway; the protesters were all gone, including your parents. Daujatas must’ve turned them away and told them to go home. Still, you had a hard time believing your parents had left you. You jerked toward the other side of the border, determined to check behind every single tree to make sure they weren’t hiding from you, but Sans stopped you with a firm hand on your shoulder before you could take more than a single step.

“Don’t cross the border… We’ll just get into more trouble.” He was right, but you didn’t like it. You frowned and stared across the clearing for a long moment. Eventually, you gathered the words to say,

“I just… Didn’t think they’d react like that.” Your shoulders slumped, and you sighed, “I dunno what I thought. I guess I just wish they’d listened.” You supposed it was no surprise that they didn’t have warm and fuzzy feelings toward monsters, but you thought they would’ve believed you when you said that Sans was your friend. Instead, they seemed to think you’d been brainwashed. Now they were gone, and you’d lost your opportunity to explain it to them today.

“Do you think they’ll come back?” you asked Sans, as if he’d know. After all, if you couldn’t leave the camp for fear of being locked out, then you’d have to wait for your parents to come to you.

“I hope so,” Sans remarked wistfully. You looked back over at him, a curious expression on your face. You kept forgetting that, on some level, your mom and dad were important to him, too. You still didn’t fully understand how he felt, but his familial feelings toward your parents that he’d picked up while you’d been Orion couldn’t be ignored. As much as you’d like to pretend that your family didn’t matter to him, you knew that there was something complicated and unnamable there.

“Yeah…” You reached up to pull his hand off of your shoulder, letting his bony fingers slide easily between yours. You gave his hand a squeeze and, without another word, turned around to head back home.

The harsh truth was that you couldn’t blame your mom and dad for thinking the worst of Sans and the other monsters. Humans were afraid of what they didn’t understand and, like Asgore said, most of them were just doing what they thought was right. You didn’t fully believe that _everyone_ was acting out of the goodness of their hearts but, generally, most people weren’t much different from you. If you hadn’t been the one to guess Chara’s name, would you have reacted any differently to the monsters? If it wasn’t you who had freed them, would you have been out there protesting, too?

As Sans took you through a shortcut back to your house, you realized that you honestly didn’t know. It scared you that you didn’t know yourself anymore. You were such a different person now, it was no wonder your own parents had thought you brainwashed.

“Bed?” Sans asked with a tired grunt. You let go of his hand to run your own over your now-bald head. 

“Yeah… Right behind you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been reading some Audre Lorde lately.
> 
> You can see now why this part's called Integrity ;) Each part has some strong symbolic connection to the soul attribute it's named after, so I'm hoping people can pick at least some of them out lol


	3. Fighting Entropy

They didn’t come back.

You waited for news that the protesters had returned, but they never did. Asgore said the officers probably scared them off for now, and you agreed. That was likely the case for most of them. But… Wouldn’t your parents take the chance to be able to talk to you?

Three days after your confrontation with the FBI, a supply drop was scheduled to occur. For the first time since you came to camp as Orion, the drop arrived right on time. You and Sans watched from the window as two guardsmen unloaded the helicopter while Undyne and Greater Dog carried the crates into one of the empty houses used for storage.

“It’ll be nice to have fresh fruit again,” you commented, and Sans grunted noncommittally. He’d been in a grumpy mood for the past few days. He was brooding about something, but you just didn’t know what. It was maddening not being able to know what he was thinking.

As you watched Greater Dog eagerly heft up the next package, one of the humans stopped him. You and Sans perked up as the guard pointed to your house. GD nodded, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. He bounded over to your front door, carrying the large, wooden crate over his head like it weighed nothing.

You grabbed your cane, intending to get up from the kitchen chair you’d dragged into the living room. But, before you could even move, Sans leapt up and beat you to the door. You huffed and set your cane back down.

“Hey GD,” Sans said with a casual drawl, “Got somethin’ for us?” You couldn’t quite see the dog from where you sat, but you certainly heard him barking enthusiastically. He shoved the crate at Sans with a little too much gusto. The short skeleton stumbled, but held it together with a strained smile.

“Woah… Thanks, big guy.” Greater Dog barked happily and ran off, leaving Sans to kick the door closed behind him.

“What is it?” you asked, leaning forward in your chair. Sans dropped the crate on the ground with a loud _THUD_.

“Dunno… It’s got your name written on top, though,” he grunted with a frown. You could tell what he was thinking; if the humans were giving you a heavy, mysterious crate, it had to be bad news.

Too anxious to sit any longer, you got to your feet and stood by Sans’ side.

“Well, let’s crack it open, then.”

That, in itself, turned out to be harder than you’d anticipated. Sans suggested levitating it up with his magic and dropping it on the floor until it cracked, but you nixed that idea. If there was anything fragile in the crate, that would certainly break it. Plus, you privately doubted that Sans would have the energy to lift the box repeatedly like that. You didn’t have a crowbar, however, a strategically shaped bone summoned by Sans ended up doing the same job, instead. Both of you, weak as you still were from splitting into separate bodies, were sweating by the time you were able to slide the top of the crate off of the box and onto the floor.

Clothes. When you peered into the box, all you saw were clothes. You were confused for a moment, until you realized they were _your_ clothes. A modest mix of t-shirts, sweaters, jeans, and sweatpants, along with the occasional pair of shorts that you’d bought on a whim and never actually wore. It was bizarre, seeing all of your old stuff again. You’d been wearing other people’s clothes for so long that you hardly identified with your own anymore.

You began removing the carefully folded garments, at first one-by-one, but then in large stacks. Underneath the clothes were other miscellaneous things of yours. Biology and chemistry textbooks, along with a few old notebooks that you’d saved from the trash, were responsible for weighing down the crate so much. A smattering of art supplies in the corner of the box told the story of someone who’d wanted to be a good artist, but hadn’t had the patience, the passion, or the time to practice often enough to excel. A PS4, lying flat next to a healthy collection of gaming equipment, was more well-worn than the art supplies. 

These items from your past were all surreal to you, but what brought you back down to earth was a single, ancient rubik’s cube, which you recognized as your own from the way the stickers had peeled back at the edges.

“Fuck,” Sans cursed, and you silently agreed. There was no note, but a lonely crate filled with your things from home, delivered right to your doorstep, said enough.

Using the box for support, you lowered yourself to the floor. You sat with your back against the wooden crate, your knees drawn up to your chest and your head buried in your arms.

“They’re not coming back,” you said, your voice muffled. Your parents had obviously put this crate together; it was filled with everything that was important to you. If they’d been planning on coming back to camp, they would’ve given it to you themselves. And if they were being forced to stay away by the FBI, they would’ve left you a note.

Against your will, tears started pooling in the corners of your eyes. You _really_ didn’t want to cry…

Beside you, you sensed Sans picking up your clothes and putting them back in the box. Without warning, the crate disappeared from behind you. You looked up and saw that he was carrying it again.

“Let’s put this in Orion’s room,” he said with a grimace, and left without waiting for your input.

***

The following days saw you still wearing other people’s clothes, for the most part. Undyne and Papyrus were the most willing to share, plus their clothes fit you better than anyone else’s, so that was what you ended up in most of the time. Papyrus’ crop tops fit like normal t-shirts on you, and Undyne’s pants were alright as long as you rolled them up a few times. Sans, who was closer to Alphys’ size, ended up wearing hilariously out-of-place, anime-themed graphic tees. He took it in stride, despite Alphys’ constant, stammering apologies.

Even though your friends had always been happy to help with this small dilemma, you still found yourself thinking unendingly about the box. It would be just a little easier for everyone if you nutted up and unpacked it. They were already doing so much for you… Couldn’t you at least give them their clothes back? But, once Sans gave you permission not to deal with it by putting it in the spare room, it was near impossible to convince yourself to go and look through it again.

Eventually, though, life moved on, and the heartbreaking realization that your parents had abandoned you grew easier to bear. Your friends came over often and, now that you were no longer in hiding, you and Sans could go over to visit them, too. The tradition of eating dinner at Toriel’s house was back on, and a new tradition of watching movies at Papyrus, Alphys, and Undyne’s house began. Asgore often invited you over for tea and promised that, once the weather permitted, he’d help you build a garden in your sad-looking backyard. Sans didn’t relish the thought of manual labor, but the King jokingly offered him a lawn chair to snooze on while you worked. 

You felt like people cared about you… At least in this little corner of the world. That was what gave you the strength to return back to the crate a week after its arrival.

You started small with just your favorite pair of sweatpants. They smelled like the detergent your dad used when he did the laundry, but you ignored that and wore them anyway. Sans didn’t question it when he saw the pants on you, and so you slowly started integrating your old wardrobe back into your daily life. Unfortunately, Sans took that as an invitation to borrow the clothes you hung up in your shared closet, and you were constantly bickering about it light-heartedly.

It was good, though. It felt… normal.

What _didn’t_ feel normal was how you were not getting any stronger. Your “condition,” as your friends seemed to like calling it, was worsening, not improving. Much more serious than your nagging over clothes were the arguments you and Sans got in over your health. He’d latched onto the idea that you should go and see a human doctor, which you were staunchly opposed to.

“I’m _not_ leaving camp,” you argued with as much conviction as you could manage with your chin resting heavily on San’s clavicle as he carried you piggyback style down the street. You’d woken up that morning unable to walk, which had reignited the ongoing fight about your weakness.

“You will, if you don’t get better soon,” he growled, tightening his hold on your legs. “We can’t just ignore this… I’m feeling better, and you’re not. Clearly something’s wrong here.” That was true, you had to admit. While Sans’ magical energy had been a bit weaker than normal at first, it had long since returned in full force.

“Yeah, and that’s why we’re going to see Toriel. She’s better than any doctor, anyway,” you retorted, though he didn’t respond. You could tell you hadn’t convinced him. What did he honestly think a human doctor was going to do?

Once you got to Tori’s front door, you reached over Sans’ shoulder and knocked. Even that simple motion made your joints ache. Frisk answered the door. Their bright expression turned to a frown when they saw you being carried.

“Get your mom, kiddo,” Sans ordered in a harsher voice than he usually used with the child. They nodded determinedly and ran off.

Sans let himself into the house and kicked the door shut. He deposited you onto the couch carefully. You huffed, annoyed and frustrated at this whole situation.

“Oh, dear… What happened?” Toriel asked as she emerged from the kitchen, her long, elegant stride carrying her over to where you were slumped on the couch. You crossed your arms self-consciously.

“Nothing happened, Sans is just overreacting.”

“I’m not overreacting; you can’t walk.” He crossed his arms too, probably unaware that he was mimicking you.

“Is this true?” Toriel asked you. You shifted in your seat uncomfortably.

“I mean, I’m a little sore.” You hated everything about this. You hated that you weren’t getting better, you hated that you couldn’t ignore it, and you hated that everyone was so worried about you. Especially Sans… So much so that he seemed willing to ship you off to God knows where, fully aware that you might not be allowed back.

Toriel frowned and kneeled beside you. Her gaze was so intense that you couldn’t meet it. Instead, you looked over at Sans, who was talking to Frisk. The kid made rapid motions with their hands, which you were no longer capable of recognizing. Sans was, though, and he responded by ruffling their short hair.

“It’ll be alright… Howzabout you go play outside? Better take a coat, though… Wouldn’t want to freeze down to the _bone_.” Frisk frowned at the half-assed pun, but obeyed nonetheless. On their way out, they slammed the door loud enough to make you flinch. Toriel clicked her tongue.

“I keep telling them not to do that… Oh, well.” She turned her attention back to you. “Relax, dear. I am going to try to heal you, though I cannot promise it will help in your… unique situation.” You nodded and, after a moment of awkward hesitation, decided to lay flat on your back. Toriel placed both of her furry hands on one of your sore legs. You closed your eyes…

Suddenly, as her magic touched your aching body, you felt a jolt of fear. Instead of the calming feeling you’d come to associate with healing magic, you felt cold and confused. Something deep inside of you rebelled, and you stiffened. For some reason, you thought you were paralyzed. As soon as you realized you could move, though, you jerked away from Toriel’s touch, your fearful eyes snapping open.

“What is the matter?” Tori asked, concern written all over her face. You stared at her with wide eyes.

“You… didn’t feel that?” You looked between Toriel and Sans, the latter of which had his arms tightly crossed as though he was holding himself back. 

“No… I felt nothing out of the ordinary.” She furrowed her brow and reached out to touch your forehead. Assuming that she was going to try to heal you again, your hand flew up to swat her away. She raised her hands in surrender. “Easy, my child… I will not continue the healing if it is causing you pain. Even though that is extremely unusual…”

“It’s not painful, it’s just-” You cut yourself off. You couldn’t really explain what had happened. You looked over at Sans helplessly, but his expression was unreadable.

“Well, I was nearly finished, anyway. Does your leg feel any better?” Toriel sounded hopeful, but you looked down at yourself skeptically. You swung your legs over the side of the couch and tested a little weight on them. They both still felt weak, and you were sure you’d collapse if you stood. It was exhausting just thinking about it.

“No… Sorry.” You thought about lying just to get Sans off of your back, but you wouldn’t have been able to hide it for long.

“No need to apologize, dear,” Toriel said sadly, “I am the one who is sorry. It seems there is something preventing your healing.” No one said it, but you were sure everyone in the room knew why it hadn’t worked. No matter what you did, your body was still dead. Sure, you’d managed to fake it well enough to shove your soul back into it, but there were consequences. Your hair wasn’t growing back, though it should’ve started coming in by now. Your toenails were falling off one by one, making it even more painful to walk than it already was. And, of course, there was your worsening weakness. It was like your already feeble muscles were slowly deteriorating to nothing. You felt like you were turning back into a skeleton, slowly but surely.

“You should go see Papyrus,” Toriel blurted out suddenly, shattering the silence. You and Sans stared at her blankly. “I only meant that… He may be able to help where I cannot. I confess that I do not know much about this, er, _brand_ of magic, but I believe that the book you found on it mentioned a strong connection between the caster and the object of interest...” She blushed and amended, “Well, not that you are an object, of course, but I just mean… There may very well be some bond between you and your brother that we should be taking advantage of,” Toriel concluded. You and Sans glanced at each other. Neither of you bothered correcting the “brother” slip; that was a complicated matter in its own right, and there were more important issues at hand at the moment.

“Let’s try,” you spoke quickly before Sans could voice his concerns, “It can’t hurt, right? And I’m pretty sure Pap would love to help…” You waited with bated breath for Sans to say his opinion. Toriel watched this interaction with a deep frown, though you weren’t sure why.

“Alright… Let’s go now,” Sans agreed, and you exhaled. You raised your arms and clung to Sans as he transferred you onto his back.

“Thanks anyway, Toriel.” You craned your neck to look back at her as you were carried away. Sans was too single-minded at the moment to think of saying goodbye. Toriel stood from her kneeling position and said in a wistful tone,

“Good luck.”

While Sans took a shortcut outside and walked the few remaining feet to Papyrus’ door, you laid your head back on his collarbone and closed your eyes. To get your attention, Sans bounced you a little on his hips and asked,

“Hey, you okay back there?” He hesitated at the door. Ever since you woke up like this, Sans had been full of nervous tension. No, even before that… Every day that passed without any improvement in your health seemed to add another weight onto his back. Both literally and figuratively. You were worried about it too, sure, but not as much as he was. It wasn’t like you’d never felt this shitty before. You felt like you were a few weeks out from a surgery, during that time when you were no longer on pain killers but still felt that ever-present throbbing in your bones. Or after that one day when you’d missed the bus and had to walk home from school in the rain. You’d laid on the couch, too sore to move for the rest of the day.

But that was the thing… Those incidents all had a clear cause and hope for improvement. You’d never just steadily declined like this for no reason. And it seemed unlikely that you’d get better on your own. How far would it go? Would you eventually just fade away to nothing? Would Sans be forced to reabsorb your soul to save you? You didn’t doubt that he’d do it in an emergency. As much as you _really_ didn’t want it to come to that, you would selfishly prefer being Orion over being dead. And, if you caved in, went to a human doctor, and weren’t allowed back into camp, then Sans wouldn’t be around to take your soul if it came to that…

All of these thoughts swirled in your mind, but you didn’t have anyone to share them with. Sure, Sans was right there. He was about as close as he could get physically, but still so far away. You pressed the side of your head against his, willing your thoughts to traverse the impassable barriers of flesh and bone between you. Sans paused, as though listening for them. But you knew that he’d heard nothing when he lifted his foot and knocked on the front door with it.

Immediately, the door flew open, and you would’ve been startled if you weren’t so tired.

“HELLO AND GOOD MORNING MY-” Papyrus cut himself off when he noticed you clinging to Sans’ back. “Hey! Sans, I did not know you were giving piggyback rides! Can I have one?!?”

“Maybe later, Pap,” Sans said tiredly, letting himself into the house. It seemed that Undyne and Alphys were either already gone or still sleeping, since the living room was empty and there was a lack of alarming noises coming from the kitchen.

“Well, have you come to initiate some brotherly bonding time??? I have to go to work soon, but never fear! You can come with me! It’ll be fun!!!” Everything was starting to feel very distant; you were having trouble concentrating on what was happening around you. Even so, you felt Sans cringe minutely, and still had the presence of mind to know why. He and Papyrus hadn’t exactly had any “brotherly bonding time” in the two weeks since you and Sans had been resurrected. You knew Sans felt that it was his fault. Sure, the two of them hung out sometimes, but it was always in the presence of you, Alphys, and Undyne. Sans never could bring himself to make more of an effort than that, and, when you asked, he couldn’t explain why.

“Actually… uh… We were hoping you’d do us a bit of a favor…” Sans squeezed your legs, signaling you to jump into the conversation. You opened your mouth, but a wave of nausea forced you to clamp it shut again. You slumped over Sans’ shoulder, shivering as a sudden chill overtook you.

“HUMAN?!? WHAT IS WRONG???” Papyrus’ shrill voice rang through your skull, though you barely heard him. Your skin felt clammy and cold. You were finding it hard to continue ignoring the sharp, throbbing pain in your limbs.

“They ain’t feelin’ so well, Pap.” There was a desperate edge to his words, which you only just managed to pick up on in your sudden haze. You felt yourself being lifted, and were about to panic at being separated from Sans until you realized it was Papyrus who’d removed you.

“Never fear, human! The Great Papyrus will heal you right up!” You felt yourself being set on the couch, your eyelids now too heavy to keep open. Papyrus’ chest was against your back, mimicking the position Orion had taken when papyrus had healed them, too. You leaned sideways against the back of the couch, propped up between it and the skeleton. You felt like you were either going to fall asleep or throw up.

In the end, you did neither. Once Papyrus put his hands on your bald head, you experienced a warmth that you hadn’t felt with Toriel. The innate fear was still there, lurking... But the calming feeling in your chest chased it away quickly. It didn’t quite feel the same as normal healing magic, but you couldn’t put your finger on what was different this time. Eventually, your racing heartbeat steadied, and your cold skin grew warm. You flexed your fingers and opened your eyes, looking back at Papyrus as his hands slipped from your head.

“Feel better?” he asked kindly. You blinked, then nodded in dumb amazement.

“Really?” Sans asked, surprised but hopeful. He hadn’t expected it to work; you could see that now.

“Well, of course!” Papyrus exclaimed proudly, “I am a master of healing, as with all things!” You were only half-listening to his boasting, too busy marveling at your sudden improvement. You wiggled your toes and flexed your ankles experimentally. One of your joints popped, but it didn’t hurt. It felt good, actually. You leaned forward and stretched your arms over your head, cracking the joints in your wrist as you did so. Sans and Papyrus both cringed at the sound. You laughed airily.

“Thanks, Papyrus… I feel much better,” you said, taking a deep breath for what felt like the first time. You felt better than you’d ever felt in the past two weeks… It was like some kind of miracle.

“Just take it easy…” Sans warned, already anticipating what you were about to do. You ignored him and used the arm of the couch to push yourself to your feet. He was there immediately, grabbing onto your arm reflexively as though preparing to catch you. But he needn’t have worried; you were just fine.

It occurred to you then that Sans had never really known you in your normal, healthy body. When the two of you first met in the Underground, you’d already had a broken leg courtesy of Flowey. Then, of course, there was Orion… And now this. Though you weren’t the most physically able person even when you were feeling your best, you were still excited at the vague possibility of getting to show him what you were actually like. Even though you and Sans knew each other perhaps more intimately than any other two people on the planet, your experiences with each other were so fraught with constant conflict that there were a lot of things your relationship was missing out on.

You realized, then, that you were starting to think of yourself and Sans like you were some kind of couple. You tamped down on those thoughts right away, too uncertain about that to deal with it right now.

Once he saw that you were doing alright, Sans’ fingers loosened their grip on your arm. His hand slipped down to grasp your own. You looked up and returned his tentative smile. You didn’t fully understand why Papyrus was able to heal you when Toriel couldn’t, but you’d take whatever you could get. 

“Whew! Now that that emergency is over… I have to get to work! The offer still stands if the two of you would like to accompany me to an impromptu bring-your-siblings-to-work day!” You and Sans looked at each other. You gave him a small nod. You’d have to go grab your cane first; you weren’t crazy enough to leave it behind on a day at work with Papyrus.

“Sure, Pap,” Sans said with an easy-going smile. He looked more relaxed now than he had been in weeks.

“Excellent!” Papyrus jumped from the couch, “Undyne has asked me to patrol Hotland today! The guards who are usually in charge of that area are on their honeymoon… Isn’t love just great?!?” You and Sans looked at each other at the same time, then laughed. Between your snorts, you told a confused Papyrus,

“Yeah, it is.”


	4. Red Pill, Blue Pill

For the first time since you woke up in your own body, things were actually going well. Physically, you were feeling better than ever… But not without a catch. Every two or three days, depending on how much you pushed yourself, you’d have to go to Papyrus to get healed again. It was like your body was perpetually eroding away and only he could put it back together. Of course, Papyrus was happy to do it, but it did bother you a little. You didn’t like relying on someone so heavily; though, if it had to be anyone, you were glad it was Papyrus. Still, it was always something lurking in the back of your mind, and you wished you could be rid of the worry.

But, aside from that hiccup, you were doing alright. It was much easier to see the bright side of being stuck in camp when you weren’t in constant, debilitating pain. Now that you were feeling better, you felt that you were ready to start tackling your duties as a new ambassador. It seemed Asgore had the same idea, since you couldn’t think of any other reason that he’d formally invite you over to his house for a “discussion” one afternoon.

It was right after one of your brief healing sessions with Papyrus that you and Sans took a shortcut into Asgore’s house, preferring to forgo a walk in the uncomfortably crisp, early December air. When the two of you appeared in the King’s living room, Sans reached back and rapped his knuckles on the front door belatedly. You had to stifle your laughter.

“Just one moment! I’ll be right - oh!” Asgore’s booming voice came from the kitchen, but he cut himself off when he saw the two of you already in his house. He chuckled. “My apologies, I do always seem to forget where Orion inherited their teleporting powers from.” You and Sans glanced at each other, always uneasy whenever Orion was mentioned. Asgore didn’t notice and continued talking, “Please have a seat… I am almost finished brewing a kettle of tea.”

You sat down at the kitchen table as instructed, with you and Sans placing yourselves shoulder to shoulder. When Asgore emerged with mugs of tea, he got a close-up look at Sans and laughed out loud.

“I like your shirt, though perhaps it is a little... redundant?” The King teased, and you rolled your eyes in exasperation. Sans was wearing a black shirt with a skeleton print on it, complete with a ribcage, spine, and pelvis. It was one of yours; you’d tried to move it to your closet discretely, but of course he’d found it. The look of pure joy on his face when he caught sight of it made it almost worth it. But the way his very real, boney arms stuck out from the cartoon skeleton was just odd. Plus, it straddled the uncomfortable border of lewdness… Was it weird for him to be wearing an image of a skeleton pelvis? You thought so, but he clearly didn’t.

“Thanks… I think it really compliments my figure, wouldn’t you say?” Sans replied as he slouched back on his chair lazily. You rubbed your face with your hands.

“Undoubtedly,” Asgore played along with a smile as he passed out the freshly brewed tea. He gave you a mug that was only half full, which was just fine by you. You leaned forward and scooted the mug closer, hissing when its ceramic surface was hotter than you’d anticipated. As you simply breathed in the aroma of the tea, Sans took his and downed half of it in one gulp. Asgore was unfazed.

“At any rate,” he continued as he sat down across from you, sipping on his own tea like an actual gentleman, “It has been several weeks now… How are the two of you settling in?”

“Fine,” you answered for the both of you, “I’m feeling better, finally,” You squeezed your cane, which rested between your thighs. You weren’t lying, for once; the improvement in your health had been quite drastic once you started seeing Papyrus on the regular. Sometimes, you didn’t even need your cane when you were just walking around in your own house, though Sans always got nervous whenever he saw you without it. Additionally, your hair was finally coming in. You were wearing a beanie today, but you could feel the little pinpricks of stubble rubbing against your hat whenever you moved your head.

“So I have noticed… This is great to hear,” Asgore said with a kind smile. You fidgeted and took a sip of your tea before remembering that you didn’t like tea. You tried not to make a face as you set the mug back down slowly. “In that case, would you be willing to begin your work for me? I do not want to pressure you. If you still need time-”

“Yes! I’d love to,” you answered immediately, desperate as you were to start working as an ambassador. Not that you weren’t nervous to be taking on such an important role, but you were going to go insane if you had to spend another day just lounging around with nothing to do. That kind of lifestyle suited Sans just fine, but not you. 

“Alright, then,” he chuckled, but sobered as he got up from his seat and went into his bedroom. You and Sans watched him curiously as he returned with a sizable stack of papers. He set them on the table gently, trying not to make a great amount of ruckus. “These are the minutes from our meetings with the humans. We typically meet every Tuesday… and I would like you to start attending those meetings.”

“Tuesday… That was yesterday,” you said absentmindedly as you pulled the stack of papers closer to you. You had to stand up to see the top of the pile, and your cane clattered to the ground as you did so. You ignored it, though the unexpected sound caused Asgore to jump.

“Yes, and that meeting is on the top. They are organized from most to least recent,” the King said, rubbing the back of his neck. You pulled out the first stapled stack of papers and, sure enough, it was dated as 12/11/18. Everyone who had attended was listed at the top, which included Reives, Wolfe, Charlie, Asgore, and Undyne.

“Does Undyne come to all the meetings, too?” you asked, thumbing through the pages of typed-up notes.

“Usually, yes.” You wondered how _that_ went, but found that, while skimming the transcript of the latest meeting, Undyne never seemed to say anything. It was unlike her. You furrowed your brow as you cherry-picked certain parts to read, taking special interest when your name popped up. Sans leaned over to read, too. 

Most of the last meeting had been about you, in fact. It felt weird knowing that people were talking about you, but they didn’t appear to have been saying anything particularly shocking. It was, apparently, already common knowledge among the public that you’d returned from the Underground, and the news stations were clamoring to talk to you. Asgore had been adamant that no other humans were allowed to enter the camp, and you didn’t have to leave the camp or talk to anyone if you didn’t want to. You felt grateful that he’d been looking out for you, even when you didn’t know that any of this was going on at the time. All the more reason to start getting involved in this chaos so that you could defend yourself instead of making Asgore fight your battles.

The King watched, giving you time to skim over the meeting. When you looked up from the paper, he said,

“I was hoping you would take these home with you and read up on what you’ve missed… It would be wise to be well-versed in what has already been discussed before you take part in the next meeting.” You nodded curtly, determined to do your best. You weren’t sure you’d be able to read all of this in less than a week, but you could try.

“Excellent,” Asgore continued with a smile, which fell into a thoughtful frown. “It is… not the best situation, I am afraid. I am sure you already know that from your previous interactions with the humans and from what I have already told you... But it is becoming more and more difficult by the day to get them to make concessions. I believe Mr. Reives may still hold some bitterness toward us because of the gold situation…” You pursed your lips as the memories started flooding back. Reives had been scamming the monsters by far underpricing the gold they possessed, but he couldn’t continue to do so once you’d revealed the fact that the monsters had gold to the public. Now, Reives’ spending was most likely being held under greater scrutiny. You hadn’t even meant to expose Reives; you just thought you were being nice by leaving the kind people in that restaurant a generous tip. But you were glad it had worked out in the monsters’ favor, anyway.

“Well… Whatever. It’s not like things can just stay like this forever, so Reives will have to get over it eventually and start thinking about the future.” You leaned back, bringing your tea with you. It had cooled down enough now that you could warm your hands on it without getting burned.

“Perhaps. But, if I can be frank with you…” The King glanced between you and Sans, as though judging how vulnerable he could be in front of the two of you. He seemed to deem you worthy, and continued, “...I am very much at a loss as to how to proceed. There has been talk between the humans about pro-monster movements and anti-monster movements, not to mention the relations with other regions that they call ‘countries’... It is all much more complicated than I remember from before we were sealed underground. I truly do not know what the public opinion is like outside of this plot of land. The two of you would have a better idea than I, since you made the trip to that human village.” He scratched the top of his head, then said, “We need you more than I would like to admit. Yes, Frisk has technically been our ambassador, but I gave them that title largely to keep the humans from taking them away from Tori. They are only a child… There is only so much I can ask of them.”

You listened to this quietly while mulling it over in your mind. Your initial reaction to having all of this weight placed on your shoulders was mild panic. After all, you were no politician… You’d never even taken a political science class. But you didn’t think Asgore expected miracles from you, so you would have to try not to expect that of yourself. It seemed like what he mostly needed from you was someone to make sense of basic human institutions. Even just explaining what countries were to him would be a step in the right direction.

“Yeah, I understand.” As Sans set down his mug, you held your own out to him absentmindedly. He took it wordlessly and started drinking your mostly untouched tea. “Well, um, I guess I’d like to start by asking… Do you know who Reives and Wolfe are? Because you keep calling Reives ‘Mr,’ and that’s not really how you’re supposed to be addressing him…”

This began a long explanation of the system of power within the camp, and then branching out more broadly to the justice system of the entire country. Asgore was mortified to realize that he’d been addressing the agents incorrectly this entire time, though you privately didn’t think that what he called them really made any difference in their opinions of him. You explained how the FBI acted as the law enforcers of the whole country, while the officers who guarded the camp had come from local police forces. The King was often slow on the uptake, probably unused to thinking about groups of people in such large populations. But he was very interested in it, judging by the number of questions he asked. You tried your best to answer him, but you didn’t always have the details he was looking for. You knew the basic idea of how your government worked, but nothing specific.

Sans was silent during this whole discussion until it started getting late. He nudged your shoulder with his own during a lull in the conversation.

“Hey, didn’tcha want to do that dinner thing tonight? We should get goin’.” You looked at your phone for the time and saw that it was 3 o’clock. He was right… You’d better get back home and start preparing.

“Ah, sorry, Asgore… Sans is right. We really should go, if you don’t mind.” Asgore waved you off.

“Of course, of course… Go right ahead.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come over tonight? Everyone else is coming…” You bit your lip, hoping that Asgore wasn’t excluding himself just because Toriel was going to be there. He chuckled and shook his head.

“No… I doubt everyone would fit into your living room, anyway. And I have other matters to attend to. Another day, maybe.” You hummed and frowned down at your long-empty mug. 

“Well, if you’re sure.” You reached down and grabbed your cane from the floor. Sans stood with you, the back of his hand brushing yours before he leaned forward to pick up the large stack of papers on the table. “See you later then, Your Majesty.”

“Indeed. Have a good day, you two.” With that, you and Sans took a shortcut out. As usual, you felt a tingle of recognition when he opened the portal. That feeling always made you think that maybe you could still do magic, too… Like it was right at your fingertips. But it never worked whenever you tried. And Sans discouraged you from trying, anyway… He said he didn’t want you to strain yourself.

As soon as you got back home, you ventured into the kitchen, with Sans following you as soon as he set down the papers. You picked up a note on the counter; one you’d placed there yourself. It was a recipe… Toriel had written it for you as soon as you’d mentioned off-hand that you might like to make dinner for everyone one day. 

It had been a silly, spontaneous idea that was now coming to fruition. You’d never hosted a party of any sort, but that was what this had come to. Not only were you making dinner for everyone, but Alphys had brought you a TV from the Underground so that you could all play video games together. You had your PS4, now that you’d been brave enough to unpack it, plus a sizable collection of games. It’d be a nice change of pace for the monsters, whose only entertainment for years had been Mettaton movies and whatever old VHS tapes happened to fall into the Underground.

The problem was that you had no idea how to cook. Sans was no help, either. He knew how to bake a few things, so he had slightly more experience than you, but he hadn’t been a big fan of this idea to begin with. Therefore, he wasn’t too inclined to help. Thankfully, once he saw you staring blankly at the recipe, he opened up the fridge to start digging for the ingredients Toriel had given you. His silent solidarity calmed your nerves.

In the end, it really wasn’t that difficult. It was some kind of casserole, so all you really had to do was throw the ingredients together and pop the whole thing in the oven. You and Sans got into a minor food fight but, even so, you were still done with the cooking well before your guests arrived.

“HELLO SIBLING!” Papyrus exclaimed as you opened the front door to let him, Undyne, and Alphys into the house. “We have arrived!” You scuffed your foot on the ground and mumbled,

“Y’know Pap, I’m not really your-” you cut yourself off when you saw Sans shaking his head vigorously. Neither of you could really decide how you wanted to deal with that recurring misunderstanding, but now wasn’t the time, regardless. You put on a forced smile. “Make yourselves at home.”

Undyne readily obliged, jumping onto the couch with enough force to make you fear for its well-being.

“Hey, punk! Nice throw pillows!” she commented with a grin before hurling a pillow at your face. You were lucky you weren’t currently using your cane, because you didn’t think you would’ve been able to catch it one-handed.

“Yeah, yeah.” You threw the pillow back at her. Neither you nor Sans were great decorators. But, in your boredom over the past couple of weeks, the two of you had made a slight effort to fix the place up. You now had pillows for the couch, a ghastly orange rug, and a rack of test tubes sitting on the coffee table. The tubes were filled with interesting-looking rocks and flowers that you’d found around camp. It wasn’t much, but the room at least felt a little warmer with the personal touches.

“Oh! T-that’s a neat idea…” Alphys said as she crouched next to the table, examining the test tubes. You were about to answer her, but were distracted by the sight of Papyrus picking Sans up by the armpits and holding him out at arms-length.

“Brother, I cannot get over how short you are now!!! What will you do once Frisk outgrows you?!? That will be so embarrassing!” Sans’ eyes went wide at being picked up so abruptly, but he seemed to force himself to relax in his brother’s hold. He grinned and shrugged.

“Well, hey… Everyone likes short people. We never _look down_ on anyone.” He winked, and Papyrus roared,

“THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE! Not only are you wearing that ridiculous shirt, but now you’re punning again?!?” He plopped Sans on the couch and crossed his arms, frowning. Sans sunk heavily into the cushions, looking like he was about to become one with the furniture. You limped over to Papyrus and nudged him.

“I’d love to make a joke, too, but I guess I came up _short._ ” 

“UGH!” Pap shoved you good-naturedly, then immediately realized his mistake and grabbed your arm to steady you. You barely avoided falling over. Before Papyrus could apologize and make the situation awkward, you smirked and pushed him back in retaliation.

“YEAH! FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!” Undyne cheered loudly from the other side of the couch.

“No fighting indoors,” a motherly voice said sternly from the front door. All five of you whipped your heads around to look and saw that Toriel and Frisk had let themselves inside. The kid immediately hurried to kick off their boots and unwrap the scarf from their neck, throwing all of their winter gear into the corner as they stripped it off.

“Hello, Queen Toriel!” Papyrus exclaimed cheerfully, then narrowed his eyes. “And human! Why are you wearing so much armor?!? Have _you_ been fighting?!?” 

“Fighting off the cold, perhaps,” Toriel said with a chuckle, “It is getting chilly, and I have heard that humans get ill when exposed to frigid temperatures…”

“Yeah, but you might’ve gone a little overboard,” you commented, trying not to laugh as you watched Frisk remove layer after layer of sweaters and coats. Poor kid must’ve been steaming under all of that.

“Oh…” Toriel bit her lip, then added, “Well, if that is the case, then I suppose you do not have to wear all of that on the walk back, my child.” Frisk huffed, finally left in their usual striped shirt and jeans, both of which they’d outgrown months ago.

Sans, who seemed to have had enough of you walking around without your cane, reached forward, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you down onto the couch with him. 

“Oof!” You flopped down onto the lumpy cushions and glared at him. “Just a minute, I should go grab the food now that everyone’s here…”

“I’ll get it.” Sans shot up from the couch before you could even think about standing. You rolled your eyes. Alphys and Undyne shared a knowing look, and you blushed.

“Uh, Frisk! Why don’t you pick out a game for us to play after dinner?” _Anything to change the subject,_ you thought. The kid brightened up and made a beeline for the stack of video games piled haphazardly next to your TV. 

Papyrus joined in, picking up all of the games Frisk discarded and asking you endless questions about them. Undyne leapt off of the couch to take a closer look at Grand Theft Auto, which had you spluttering to explain how it wasn’t a very family-friendly game. Undyne’s eyes widened when she read the warnings on the back.

“Oh my god?!? I had no idea they made games like this! That’s AWESOME! Babe, come look at this…”

Everyone was thoroughly entrenched in your video game collection by the time Sans reemerged with the food. Again, you felt his magic resonating with you before you even saw the plates hovering all around him. He gently lowered them all onto the coffee table, and your guests promptly descended on the food like ravenous wolves. Or at least, Undyne, Papyrus, and Frisk did. But even Alphys seemed eager to eat. When you asked about it, Papyrus replied proudly through a mouthful of casserole,

“We didn’t eat lunch because we wanted to save our hunger for your superb cooking!!! It was my idea!!!”

“It was a _dumb_ idea,” Undyne mumbled, but amended, “But actually kinda worth it… This rocks!”

“Ah, you can thank Toriel for that,” you said, gesturing helplessly to the Queen as you struggled to accept the undeserved compliment. Toriel gave a mock bow before taking her own plate, and Frisk said something with their one available hand. You looked at Sans, who chuckled and translated for you,

“Kid says they had lunch, but they’re always hungry.”

“It is true,” Toriel lamented, then ruffled Frisk’s hair. “They must be going through a growth spurt… I have never seen a child eat so much!” You were sure that was partially Toriel’s fault for letting them eat whatever they wanted, but you didn’t voice that thought. It was true that Frisk was not only shooting up in height, but getting a little pudgy on top of it. It wasn’t any of your business, though.

“H-hey, um… i-is there any ch-cheese in this?” Alphys asked nervously, poking her already half-eaten meal with a fork.

“Nope… You’re allergic, right?” You thought you remembered that from one of your late-night lab conversations back when you were working with her on the epinephrine. She nodded, looking relieved.

The rest of the meal passed similarly, with light conversation ebbing and flowing between friends. Frisk had picked out a racing game for you all to play after you were full, and it turned out to be an excellent choice. Unfortunately, only three of you could play at a time, since you only had four controllers and one of them was broken. You played against Papyrus and Frisk first to show everyone how it was done. You beat the two of them handily. The controllers were passed around between everyone after that. You’d put more time into this game than you would’ve liked to admit, so you easily won every time a controller ended up in your lap. Frisk was the best after you. You had the sneaking suspicion that they’d played this game before. The monsters were all pretty bad, though Toriel and Sans were by far the worst. They were so bad that neither of them ever managed to beat an NPC on the lowest difficulty level. It turned into a competition between the two of them to see who could be the worst, much to everyone else’s dismay when a match lasted over ten minutes while both of them refused to move. Toriel and Sans were banned from playing after that.

It was just… fun. There was no catch; you were just having a good time. You all played until eight, when Toriel promptly declared it was Frisk’s bedtime. Everyone trickled out after that, leaving you and Sans alone with the dirty dishes and a disheveled living room. 

“I’ve got the dishes,” you declared with a smile. You actually quite liked doing the dishes; the warm water and the smell of dish soap calmed you for some reason. Plus, when you were digging out your PS4 the other day, you’d found something in the crate that would make the chore even better.

Before getting your hands wet, you plugged your ipod into the speakers you’d set up on the counter. You grinned from ear to ear when your music began to play. You hadn’t listened to music in so long… You’d have to show this to your friends the next time they came over. Monsters didn’t have much in the way of music; the depressive mood in the Underground hadn’t exactly been conducive to creative endeavors.

You flipped through your library at random, searching for a good song to clean to. You found one that wasn’t quite in line with your usual fare… In fact, you considered it a guilty pleasure song. You glanced over your shoulder, and were surprised to see that Sans wasn’t in the living room anymore. Everything was already clean and in order (well, as clean as it had been before your guests had arrived), so maybe he’d gone to bed already.

You shrugged and pressed “play,” laughing breathily to yourself as the familiar, upbeat tune sounded throughout the kitchen. You turned it down a little, hoping Sans wouldn’t hear it and make fun of you for how cheesy the song was. On second thought, the odds were pretty good that he’d heard it get stuck in your head at least once as Orion, so he probably already knew.

You swung your hips and turned the sink on, humming to the opening of the song. You scrubbed the plate you were holding in time with the tune, shooting a look over your shoulder one more time before singing quietly along,

“But maybe all you need is someone to trust, maybe all you need is someone,  
Maybe all you need is someone to trust, maybe all you need is someone…”

You took a deep breath and belted out the chorus,

“And I won’t let you down, no I won’t let you down!  
I won’t let you down, my love,  
I won’t let you down, no I won’t let you down!  
I won’t let you down, my love…  
No I. Won’t. Let. You down!  
Won’t let you down… won’t let you down…” 

You began to run out of breath as you overestimated your singing skills, and went back to humming. You realized you’d been cleaning the same plate for too long. You set it aside on the counter.

Suddenly, you felt skeletal arms sneak around your waist. You jumped and let out an undignified squeaking noise. Much to your mortification, Sans started to sing along where you left off,

“And you’ve got what the whole world wants,  
So strap that armor tighter on,  
Double on down like it’s gonna make you free…”

“Ugh, so you _could_ hear whenever I had a song stuck in my head… I’m sorry you had to go through that hell,” you apologized, only half-joking. Sans chuckled, then continued singing while swaying both of your bodies to the beat,

“But maybe all you need is someone to trust, maybe all you need is someone,  
Maybe all you need is someone to trust, maybe all you need is someone…”

Without warning, he took your hand and spun you out to the side. You yelled wordlessly, then laughed as he caught your other hand and kept you from falling backwards.

“And I won’t let you down, no I won’t let you down!  
I won’t let you down, my love,  
I won’t let you down, no I won’t let you down!  
I won’t let you down, my love…”

The two of you sang and danced together. You were a terrible dancer and a mediocre singer, while Sans was a mediocre dancer and terrible singer. So you balanced each other out… Combined, you were just kinda bad at both. You kept the dancing simple, mostly just swinging your hips and clapping at the right parts of the song. You took a turn spinning Sans around, and he spun you again, too. Even though you didn’t have your cane, you never stumbled. Sans somehow always knew exactly where and when to support you.

The impromptu karaoke-and-dance session was brought to an abrupt close when you caught sight of movement in your living room. 

“Frisk!” you exclaimed, your cheeks reddening. You hadn’t even heard the door open over the music, but there Frisk was. They looked at you, then looked at Sans, and back to you. They gestured helplessly to the corner of the room, then ran over there and grabbed the garment that was laying on the ground. Kid must’ve forgotten one of the many coats they’d worn over here. They balled up the coat in their arms and shot you one last look, wiggling their eyebrows at the sight of Sans’ hands on your waist. With that, they ran out of the house and slammed the door.

It took a few moments to process what had happened, but when you did, both you and Sans burst into laughter. During the fiasco, the song had ended and the next started playing, but you hardly noticed. You were too busy snorting and giggling at how ridiculous your life had become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally nothing bad happened?!?!? This was 5k words of pure fluff, hope you enjoyed.
> 
> The song is "I Won't Let You Down" by Ok Go


	5. Frankenstein's Human

The next day, you woke up to the sight of a world covered in white.

Record heats had meant that there had been little to no snow on the ground until now. Though there had been little flurries every now and then, nothing had ever stuck. So it was a surprise when you looked outside and saw at least eight inches covering the camp.

You shook Sans awake and watched his expression carefully as you ushered him to the window. His face lit up; you knew he loved the snow. It was part of why he’d dreamed of moving to Snowdin as a kid. He never said it, but he was a sucker for curling up with a blanket and a mug of hot chocolate while watching the snow drift lazily to the ground.

“Let’s eat breakfast and go check it out,” you suggested with a grin, feeling more excited about snow than you’d felt since you were a kid. You’d never liked it much, yourself; it was always such a struggle for you to walk through thick snow, and you’d always been frustrated when the other kids could run around and play in it. But Sans’ happiness was infectious, and you knew that your friends wouldn’t let you feel left out if they did decide to play in the snow.

“I’ll make pancakes,” Sans volunteered before dashing to the kitchen, moving with a quickness you rarely saw out of him. You smiled fondly and followed him more slowly, grabbing your cane as you went.

The pancakes were as misshapen as always, but still good. You both liked to drown your food in syrup, so everything was a sticky mess by the time you were finished. You made Sans wash his hands before answering the front door, which someone knocked on impatiently.

“Hey kiddo,” Sans greeted Frisk, who looked adorable all bundled up in their striped, winter gear. You watched from the dining table as they signed something that you didn’t understand. Sans poked his head out the door and looked around.

“Sure... But where’s Pap?” Frisk furrowed their little brows and made a quick sign. They paused, then amended it with a longer series of hand motions. You really needed to pick up a book on sign language eventually.

“Hmm… ‘kay. You go play, we’ll be out in a minute.” With that, Frisk ran off, and Sans shut the door again. He shoved his hands in his pockets and sauntered back over to you, looking deep in thought.

“So, what was that about?” you prompted. Sans looked surprised. He probably forgot that you couldn’t read his thoughts anymore, which was something both of you did often.

“Oh, kid just wants us to join their snowball fight. Everyone’s out there, ‘cept for Pap. Guess he’s got a cold, or something.” Sans shrugged, but you frowned. He continued, “The kid says it’s no big deal, but I’ll probably go over there and check on ‘im.”

“I’ll go with,” you declared, as if that was ever in question. You felt a gnawing guilt in your chest. Was this your fault, somehow? “Do monsters even get colds?” you asked casually while stacking your empty plate on top of Sans’. You didn’t want him to know that you were nervous. He seemed to be able to tell, anyway.

“Yeah, ‘course. It’s nothing… I just wanna make sure he’s getting his rest.” Unlike you, Sans didn’t seem worried. You forced yourself to relax; Sans knew better than you when it came to this. If he said it was nothing, then it was nothing.

Sure enough, as soon as you threw on your coat and took a shortcut down the street, you saw that Papyrus was fine. A little sniffly and upset that he wouldn’t get to play in the snow with everyone else, but fine. He was wrapped in two layers of blankets and huddled in the living room, playing Go Fish with Toriel.

“What are you two doing here?!? You should be enjoying the snow!!!” Papyrus protested, his voice a little nasally. 

“You sure, bro?” Sans asked, shuffling his feet. 

“Of course! The Great Papyrus will be just fine! Nyeh heh-” He cut himself off with a hacking cough. You and Sans glanced at each other skeptically.

“...We’ll come back in an hour to keep you company, how about that?” you conceded. Behind Papyrus, Toriel nodded gratefully. As fun as it was to play games with Papyrus, she probably had other things to do, too. The sick skeleton deliberated for a moment.

“Alright, that seems fair! I will see you in an hour, then!!!”

With that decided, you and Sans ventured back outside…

...And you were immediately hit in the face with a snowball.

“Hey, punk! Think fast!” You barely heard Undyne yelling through your own spluttering as you rubbed freezing snow out of your eyes. Sans grabbed your arm and dragged you through a shortcut, barely keeping you from getting pelted a second time. When you could finally see again, Sans was frowning and staring at a point over your shoulder. You whirled around just in time to see Sans use his magic to drop an entire pile of snow on top of Undyne. A muffled scream of rage could barely be heard through the mound of snow. The dog family, who had been chasing snowballs that Frisk threw for them, stopped what they were doing and looked around wildly. 

You snorted, then took Sans’ wrist and dragged him behind the nearest house before the dogs could figure out who’d buried their leader.

“I think you might’ve started a war,” you commented as you peeked around the side of the vacant house. Greater Dog and Endogeny were digging out the snow around Undyne while Dogami and Dogaressa pulled on the fish woman’s arms. Doggo was sniffing the air, while Lesser Dog was still begging Frisk to throw more snowballs.

Sans pulled you back and gave you an intense look. He reached up and brushed some snow off of your face. Your skin was still burning from the cold, so you could barely feel it when he swiped his thumb over your cheek.

“She deserved it,” he said smugly. 

“Yeah… But still. We should build a fort, or something.”

Making a snow fort had never been easier than it was with Sans on your team. He only half a thought, he erected a wall of snow in a half-circle around the two of you. With your backs to the side of the house, that meant you were protected on all sides. As soon as the dogs found you, you began your assault. You threw snowballs at them from the front while Sans caused snow to fly at them from behind. It was so effective that Frisk waved their white mitten in surrender and asked to join your team.

Soon after that, though, you grew tired. It hit you like a ton of bricks, and you found yourself unable to aid in the snowball-throwing effort anymore. You sat back on your butt and leaned against the side of the house, feeling more than a little dizzy.

“Hey, you okay?’ Sans’ voice echoed like he was speaking to you through a long pipe.

“Just… tired…” you panted. But, even as you said that, you weren’t sure if it was true. This didn’t seem normal. You suddenly felt way too hot in your winter gear, and your vision was blackening on the edges as though you were about to pass out.

Why was this happening so quickly?

Fear gripped your chest for a split second before everything went black.

\---

Black. Everything was black and cold… Well, not cold, just the absence of warmth. The absence of anything. You tried to hold your hands up to your face, just to see _something_ , but there was nothing even then. You had no hands; no body.

But from the absolute nothingness came a buzzing, static noise. You weren’t sure if your mind was just making it up to fill the space, but did it really matter? From the static came whispers, and from the whispers came twisting shapes in the darkness. Walls, and a floor, and soft, green light to bounce off of them.

You knew where you were now.

“Gaster?” Your voice came as echoing whispers in the void, bending and distorting into something that didn’t sound like you at all.

The whispers talked back.

“Novice… better than ever… master of necromancy…”

You whirled around, searching for the exit. You found the open, gray door directly behind you and caught a brief glimpse of the interior of the abandoned barn before the door swung shut with a loud _BANG!_

“Let me… let me… let me…” The whispers sounded agitated.

“What do you want?” you asked in a brief moment of bravery, “You said you didn’t need my help… So what, then?”

Suddenly, the walls and floor seemed to move around you. You never moved, but were transported against your will to the opposite end of the hallway. There was another door at this end; not gray, but made of the same, insubstantial material as the rest of the void.

“Count your blessings… let me… _let me..._ ”

Slowly, the door began to creak open. But, before you could see what was on the other side, everything went black again.

\---

“...happened?”

“Dunno, they just passed out. I don’t get it… Pap just healed them yesterday. They should be fine ‘til at least tomorrow.”

“Perhaps this is unrelated to their condition.”

“What’re the odds of that?”

You felt groggy, achy… Too weak to move. You saw bright light through your closed eyelids, but you didn’t have the strength to open them.

“Maybe they caught whatever Papyrus has? Even a simple cold might affect them more profoundly than a healthy person.”

“Can humans even catch our colds?”

“Doubt it.”

Sans. That voice belonged to Sans. You wanted to reach out to him, but couldn’t. As though sensing your silent distress, he laid a cold hand on your forehead. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again,

“Tori, could you try to heal them? I don’t want to worry Papyrus, and he might hurt himself if he tries to use his magic in his state…”

“Of course. I will try.”

\---

There was a child in front of you.

“I told you it wouldn’t work~” they said in a sing-song voice. Frisk - no, Chara - sauntered toward you with a big smile on their face.

You looked around and blinked, confused and disoriented. You were in a kid’s room, but it wasn’t Frisk’s. This room was smaller. It had mold growing on the walls. Someone had tried to cover it up with crude, childish drawings and macaroni art.

“What’s happening?” you asked, unsure if this was real or if you were making it up in your mind. You’d heard someone say something about you being sick… Maybe this was all some kind of fever dream?

“You’re dying,” they answered bluntly. You reeled back, your heart pounding. “I told you, didn’t I? I warned you not to do this… I was actually being _nice_! But it was all for nothing, as usual. Clearly, I shouldn’t have bothered.”

You shook your head numbly. You felt… weird. Was this what dying felt like? Your heart was racing, so you sat down on the floor. Chara followed suit, sitting down across from you and folding their legs.

“Souls are intricate. Complicated. You can’t just add and subtract them however you’d like and expect to come out the same person you were before.”

“I don’t understand,” you admitted as you reached up with one hand to clutch at your aching chest. Chara rolled their eyes.

“Of course you don’t. Do you even see yourself? Do you even know who you are anymore?” You weren’t sure you were fully following this conversation. What did this have to do with you dying?

The intense feeling of your heartbeat pounding wildly in your ribs finally gave way. You heard three clicks as your soul burst outward from your body-

\---

Before you could see your soul, you were ripped from the dream by an intense, sharp fear. You tried to scream… Fuck, _fuck_ , you were scared. What was happening?!? This was all too much. You wanted to cry, you wanted to jerk away from whatever the hell was doing this to you... But you couldn’t move at all.

Soon, thankfully, it stopped. You were left with the residual panic electrifying your skin enough to put you on edge. That brief moment of primal fear had had no cause as far as you knew, and that only made you more uneasy.

Through your haze of confusion, you heard Toriel’s voice as though from a distance,

“I am sorry… I still cannot heal them. Their body seems to resist my magic, no matter how hard I try.” There was a collective sigh in the room. There were many people around you.

“Well… We gotta bring them to Papyrus then, right?” Undyne. She sounded anxious.

“I-I c-could get s-some of the leftover epinephrine… i-if you th-think that might h-help…”

\---

...A rhythmic beeping. The sterile, cold smell of a hospital. Your mind felt groggy, and everything ached horribly. Dammit… If you were in a hospital, then Sans must’ve sent you away to be treated by humans.

You forced your eyes open, and were met with nothing but darkness. There was stuff covering your face… You reached up and yanked it all off. Something heavy and plastic fell to the floor. You were left holding a sheet that had been covering your eyes. You surged up, trying to stand before you were even fully conscious. You didn’t get very far; your breath caught in your throat as sharp pain radiated through your body. You couldn’t even manage to sit up straight before you were forced to lie back down or risk passing out from the agonizing pain.

A sharp scream rang through the room, and you flinched. You turned your head to look for the source of the sound and saw… Alphys? She covered her mouth with both hands while staring at you with wide eyes. It took you a heartbeat and a half to realize you weren’t in a hospital… You were in the True Lab. Relief washed over you, but there was still one thing missing.

“Alphys? Where’s Sans?” Your voice was a little slurred, but you thought you got your point across. Which was why you didn’t understand why Alphys was staring at you like that. Like she’d seen a ghost.

You waited three heartbeats before deciding to take matters into your own hands. You brought your shaky hands together and tore off the heart rate monitor on your finger. Only then did you notice the IV line attached to the same arm… Damn, how sick had you been? You pushed yourself up into a sitting position, but more slowly this time. You gritted your teeth and closed your eyes, feeling like you were about to be sick. 

“U-um, w-well… no, d-don’t get up! Y-you’re, um… hurt. You sh-shouldn’t move...” Alphys stuttered, but you didn’t heed her advice. After taking a moment to compose yourself, you swung your legs over the side of the metal table you were on.

“What’s going on? Where’s Sans?” You brought one hand up to rub your pounding head, but were distracted from the pain when you felt… hair? You froze. Why was your hair so long? How long had you been out?

“Something went wrong… I need to talk to Sans!” Your shrill voice echoed strangely in the room. You twisted around, searching for Sans, but there was no one else there. In your flailing, your foot slammed into a small, metal table by your bedside, knocking it over with a loud clatter. The sound prompted you to look down. Your attention was drawn to your own body. You noticed that, aside from the discarded sheet in your lap, you were nearly naked. You would’ve been embarrassed if you weren’t so consumed with worry.

“P-please, don’t panic!” Alphys sounded on the edge of hysteria, herself. Something about this was starting to feel familiar to you… “Um, w-what’s the last thing you r-remember?” You paused. This was wrong. Cold dread trickled upward, starting at your toes and pooling in your belly. Your gaze moved instinctively to the door, which was open just a crack. Even when Alphys came to stand in front of you, trying to get your attention, you continued to stare vacantly at it. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized nothing would happen until you answered. 

“This is… wrong. I-I’m not supposed to be here…” You clutched the sheet in your lap, your fingers spasming as you trembled with fear. “This already happened! I’m not soulless, you have to believe me!” The echo in the room grew louder - your voice carried on long after you’d finished speaking.

Despite your pleading, the door flew open to reveal a giant, hulking monster. It stood, crouched in the doorway, with blood dripping off of the dead feathers clinging to its wings. Its deformed skull, frozen in a permanent half-smile, stared at you with a hateful expression. You saw loathing etched in every inch of its body, but especially in the sneer it gave you before raising its sharp talons.

Orion’s name was on your lips, but you didn’t have time to speak it before your world jerked sharply and everything snapped to black.

\---

“No, I can do it! I-I’ll just try again!” Papyrus’ voice swirled around you in the darkness. You didn’t know what was real anymore, and you wished everything would just stop for a minute. You needed some peace and quiet.

“Pap…” Sans was there. You felt hands on your body, and the presence of too many people hovering around you. You wanted them all to go away; you just wanted Sans.

“Papyrus, it is alright. You are ill, and you will only make yourself weaker if you continue trying to heal them.”

“But they need me! I’m the only one who can make them feel better!”

“That’s why you gotta get some rest! Even the toughest warriors need some down-time. You need to take care of yourself before you can start fixing everyone else… Right, babe?”

“R-right…” There was a pause before Papyrus spoke again,

“...I suppose you are right.” The relief in the room was palpable. “But… Can my sibling stay here with me? I would feel better…”

“‘Course, bro.” Sans laid a hand on your arm. “We’ll both stay. It’ll be like a sleepover.”

“That is a great idea! We should do this again when the human is conscious and I am not sneezing all over the place!”

“...Yeah, we should.”

\---

There was a mirror standing in front of you.

You remembered this. For the first time since this nightmare started, you actually felt relatively safe. You _knew_ this was a dream, because you remembered having it before. Nothing could hurt you here. 

You were able to look around this time, though it didn’t do you much good. Aside from the giant mirror spanning the entire length of one wall, there was only one other object in the room. A table right in the center. The room was foggy and dark, so you couldn’t get a very good look at it, but you could see that it was oddly-shaped. There were things dangling from the table… leather straps?

That was too unnerving, so you turned your attention back to the mirror. You were naked again, like last time. The indistinct mass on your back was there still, but you were less bothered by it now. It sat there tamely, just barely peeking over your shoulder. 

What caught your attention more than anything else was a bright light that pulsed in your chest.

You took a couple steps closer to the mirror, placing a hand over your sternum to cover the light. It pulsed wildly out of sync with your heartbeat. You moved your hand outward, drawing the light out from your body. With three clicks it was free, and you were left staring at a soul that didn’t belong to you.

It was supposed to be your soul, but it didn’t look like _yours_. The heart shape was large and bulging, like it was swollen and about to burst. Purple intermixed with white, the colors swirling around each other in a hypnotizing dance. It looked more like Orion’s soul than your own.

You didn’t feel anything for it, in particular. It was neither good nor bad, but it certainly wasn’t _you_. Even though you knew, logically, that it was yours, it was blatantly and intrinsically wrong. Parts were missing, foreign parts had been added, and it was all mixed together carelessly like some kind of child’s science fair experiment.

You didn’t think Chara was just talking about your body when they said you were dying.

“This isn’t me…” you said out loud, but there was no one to listen. Your mutated soul kept pulsing, and your reflection simply stared back at you. You placed your palms on the mirror and leaned into it, but your reflection didn’t copy you. The black fog closed in around it. Whispering voices seemed to be trying to tell you something from the other side of the mirror.

“Why aren’t you fighting it? Do something!” You banged your fist on the glass, but the version of you in the mirror did nothing. You were forced to watch helplessly as your reflection was swallowed by darkness, until even the white and purple glow of your soul had vanished.

You pressed your forehead against the black mirror and closed your eyes, waiting for the darkness to consume you, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like dream sequences.
> 
> Part 1 is almost done! Just one more chapter before the story starts for real ;)


	6. Memento Mori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I used to do Sans perspective chapters way back in TUYS? Yeah, those are making a comeback

Sans was hunched awkwardly over Papyrus’ bed, his head resting on his crossed arms. He struggled to keep his eyes open… This was day three of his silent vigil over your bedside. He couldn’t leave, couldn’t even sleep, for fear that you’d pass away when he wasn’t looking. He needed to be on constant alert in case he had to do something drastic to save your soul.

It was a little better when Papyrus was awake. In those times, his brother’s cheerful attitude could lighten the mood somewhat. Even when that failed, Sans could at least feel like Papyrus was in this with him. After all, his brother never left the room, either. But at least Papyrus got to sleep sometimes, as he was doing currently.

If Sans wasn’t so sick with worry, he would’ve taken a picture of you and Papyrus right now to use as blackmail material later. The two of you had shared a bed for the past three days with no issue. But, for some reason, Papyrus had gotten more cuddly than usual last night. He had his face buried in your short, cropped hair and one arm thrown over your shoulders. You, meanwhile, were dead to the world. Just like you had been since the day of the first snowfall.

He’d wondered a lot over the past few days if there was something he should’ve done differently. Maybe he shouldn’t have let you stay out in the cold for so long. Maybe he should’ve recognized that Papyrus being sick would have an effect on you. Hell… You were dead. The only reason you were walking and talking was because you were still under the influence of Papyrus’ magic. Of course your life would be in danger when Papyrus was too weak to keep up that continuous bond…

Probably, the only way to fix this was to go back in time and refuse your request to cross the barrier together. He’d been so ready to sacrifice you to save his species, but he knew without even having to ask himself that he wouldn’t do it again if given a second chance. He’d rather keep the monsters trapped Underground for an eternity than put you through this hell.

What good was freedom doing them, anyway? The vast majority of monsters were still living Underground, just as trapped by their fear of humans as they had been by the barrier. And the poor saps who were on the surface were confined by narrow borders… Fenced in like cattle. Sans didn’t like to get involved in any of this political crap - that was your area of interest, not his. But he couldn’t help wondering if it would’ve been better for everyone to remain in the previous timeline.

It certainly would’ve been better for you. You would never have had to die, for one thing. He could still feel your warm blood on his hands… Sometimes, he wondered if that moment haunted him more than it did you. You lived in the moment more than he did; not as bogged down in the past. It worked for you.

But, as good as you were at moving forward, he knew you were still upset about what was going on. Your poor health, your parents abandoning you... They were your only family, and he knew from experiencing your dreams and memories that you loved them dearly. Sure, you would’ve missed them if you had to remain trapped in the Underground forever, but wouldn’t that have been preferable to this? He knew firsthand what it felt like to be abandoned by a parent, after all…

He had to admit, though… His wishful thinking was not entirely unselfish. Of course he had his own reasons to long for the last timeline, his brother being chief among those. He never dared speak it out loud, but he wanted _his_ brother back, not this version. He was damn lucky that Papyrus was even remotely similar to the one he remembered. He knew that. But there were subtle differences that drove him mad. The way he wore his Royal Guard armor everywhere. His inexplicable love for oatmeal. The healing powers. The necromancy.

It would just never be the same. Nothing would. At least your family and friends _remembered_ you; Sans had no one. He felt like a stranger, floating aimlessly through a world that cared about him even less than the previous one. He didn’t know what to do with himself, especially when you weren’t there to guide him.

He didn’t even want to think about it, but a part of him… a _large_ part of him… missed being Orion. Not for the power, but for the ability to _let go_. To let you take control for a while. To be able to rest and have no one even know he was gone. It was counter-intuitive; on one hand, he wanted to be more involved in this world, but on the other, he missed being able to disappear whenever he wanted. It didn’t make sense, but it was how he felt. 

He closed his eyes for a moment, then shot up ramrod straight when he remembered that he had to be watchful. How long could he stay awake? What if you died and your soul passed on while he was sleeping? Maybe… Maybe it would be better to take your soul now, before he lost the battle to keep his eyes open. But, even as he considered it, he knew he couldn’t do that. Just as surely as he knew he couldn’t go back in time and fix his old mistakes. He was stuck… Doomed to leave your life in the hands of fate.

Fortunately, all of his painful deliberation came to nothing. His attention was drawn sharply to your fingers, which twitched for the first time in three days. A smile crept onto his face as he watched your slow return to consciousness. You sniffed, your brow furrowing and your nose scrunching up adorably. One of your legs stretched out to escape the confines of the many blankets you were wrapped in. Eventually, your eyes opened, and confusion was written all over your expression. You twisted around to look at Papyrus cuddling you. Sans openly laughed.

“What’d I miss?” you asked in a voice that was hoarse with disuse.

Before he answered, Sans reached out and placed a careful hand on your forehead. You went cross-eyed trying to follow his movements. Miraculously, your temperature felt normal.

“You fell down… But I think you’ll be alright now,” he reassured you quietly, so as not to wake the sleeping skeleton. His eyes fell on Papyrus, who was snoring a little. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought his brother’s throat wasn’t rattling as badly anymore. You followed his gaze, then reached up to pull Sans’ hand off of your head. Instead of letting go, you held onto his fingers in a tight grip.

“What happened?” you asked, more somberly this time. Sans brushed his thumb over your knuckles and sighed softly.

“Not sure exactly. We think Papyrus being sick must’ve affected you somehow. It’s hard to know for sure, though… This necromancy stuff isn’t an exact science.” ...And that unnerved Sans to no end. No one seemed to know how any of this worked, and the only person who could be considered an expert was slowly going insane trapped in the void. How was he supposed to protect you if he had no way of understanding what was going on?

You bit your lip and averted your eyes, choosing to stare at Papyrus’ arm laying over your shoulders instead. It was in moments like these that Sans wished he could read your mind again. You were obviously deep in thought about something, but he couldn’t decipher what. After a few moments of silence, he got curious enough to ask,

“What’re you thinking about?” He hunched forward and rested his chin on your bed. Papyrus’ deep breaths seemed louder than usual as he waited for your response. Your answer came in a rush, spilling out all at once in a hushed whisper,

“I had some really weird dreams. I guess it was probably nothing, but I just feel weird, in general. Like… I don’t really know what I’m doing.” Sans wasn’t expecting that. He didn’t know what to say. He expected you to wake up tired and hungry, not in the middle of an existential crisis.

“It’s probably just your condition. You’re not feeling well… Of course you feel weird. Things’ll get better once you start feeling better.” There was an edge of desperation in his voice. The truth was, he felt it, too. Weird. Wrong. Detached. From the world, from himself… He didn’t really know. But part of what was keeping him going was the knowledge that you, at least, had your shit together. If you were feeling as lost as he was, then there was no hope for either of you.

“It’s not going to get better,” you said tersely, “This is as good as it gets. We just have to hope Papyrus doesn’t get sick again.”

“Don’t say that!” he snapped, his voice raising more than he would’ve liked. Both of you looked at Papyrus, who shifted in his sleep. When it was clear he wasn’t going to wake up, Sans added more quietly, “...We’ll just have to take it day by day.” You nodded, your lips pressed tightly together. After a moment of tense silence, you admitted,

“I’m surprised you didn’t ship me off to some hospital. But I’m glad, don’t get me wrong.” Sans sighed and dragged his free hand over his face.

“I thought about it, but you’re right. The humans aren’t gonna be able to do jack, and it’s safer to keep you here with me.” That came out sounding more possessive than he’d intended, but you nodded. You played with his hand, turning it over and tracing your fingers over his. He offered no resistance. You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment, as though gathering your strength. Then, you got up on one elbow, causing Papyrus’ arm to slip off of you, and bonked your forehead against Sans’. He closed his eyes, too, concentrating on the feeling of your breath against his face. If he stayed like this, he could almost pretend that you weren’t dead.

“What’re we doing, Sans?” 

He didn’t have an answer. Luckily, he was saved from having to come up with one. Papyrus must’ve been jostled too much by your movements. He finally woke up. He sniffed and shifted around under the blankets, his arms stretching up as he yawned. You pulled away from Sans to watch. When he opened his eyes to see you awake, Papyrus’ face lit up.

“Sibling! You’re okay… Just like I knew you would be!” He threw his arms around you in a bone-crushing hug, and you laughed. Sans couldn’t not smile.

“How’re you feeling, Pap?” he asked his brother, but he was willing to bet a hundred gold pieces that he already knew the answer.

“Much better, in fact! My nose isn’t all sniffly anymore,” Papyrus proclaimed before abruptly jumping out of bed. You let out a wordless cry of protest as the blankets were unceremoniously ripped from you. “Come on! Now that we are both feeling better, there is no excuse to lay in bed all day!” He snatched up your cane from the corner of the room and handed it to you as he pulled you to your feet. Sans stood up, too, ready to catch you if you fell. You wobbled a little on your feet, but didn’t fall over.

“Uh… Do you think you could heal me, Pap? Maybe after breakfast?” you asked, your cheeks stained with a light blush. Sans knew you didn’t enjoy asking for help, but you’d swallow your pride when you had to.

“Of course!” Papyrus said with confidence. He patted your head in an imitation of what Orion used to do to him. You shoved him away with a good-natured smile. 

Things seemed like they might be alright… For now, anyway. As he watched Papyrus bound out of the room, he couldn’t help but to wonder when it would all come crashing down again.

You limped to the doorway and looked over your shoulder, pausing when you saw that Sans wasn’t right behind you.

“You coming?” Sans stared at you for a beat, then asked,

“Are you sure you’re alright?” You blinked. A forced smile spread across your face, and it just about broke Sans’ heart.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

\---

End of INTEGRITY


	7. The Clarion Call

PART 2 - JUSTICE

\---

Life went on. Now that Papyrus was over his cold, you, too, healed quickly. You were back to living in your own house by Sunday afternoon, and you felt like normal by Monday. Sans slept for nearly 24 hours, crashing on the couch the instant the two of you stepped foot into your own home. You didn’t need to exchange words with him to know that he’d been keeping himself awake the entire three days you were sick. Despite Papyrus’ disapproval, you let him sleep for as long as he wanted.

Something between you and Papyrus felt different. Not necessarily bad-different, just different. You were bound together by this invisible force that no one understood, and you could no longer ignore it. But you didn’t talk about it, either. It was in the way your eyes settled on him whenever you were lost in thought. The way he stuck by your side, even when you retreated back to your own house and Sans immediately fell asleep. He stayed, playing video games with the volume off while you rushed to read through that stack of meeting minutes Asgore had given you last week.

If it was anyone… _anyone_ other than Papyrus, you would’ve been deeply uncomfortable with this. You didn’t know how it felt from his end, but you had the feeling that he had more control over you than you would’ve liked. You didn’t even think Papyrus knew what he was capable of. If his health affected you so strongly, what about his will? Could he make you do things that you didn’t want to do? Necromancy didn't exist to bring people back to life and have them go on their merry ways, after all. Its purpose was to make bodies do the caster’s bidding. Was it different for you, since it wasn’t _just_ necromancy keeping you alive? Or was it only a combination of Papyrus’ ignorance and benevolence keeping you from being what was, essentially, his slave?

You wished you knew if he was thinking the same things as you, but you didn’t dare ask. You didn’t want to burden him with this if he hadn’t yet thought of it on his own. Ironically, you suspected he was thinking the same thing about you. But you couldn’t be sure, so you didn’t bring it up.

The opportunity passed once Sans finally woke up late Monday afternoon. If you were hesitant to talk to Papyrus about this, then you were even less inclined to worry Sans with it. If he had hair, he’d already be losing it with his constant concern about your health. The fact was that you trusted Papyrus with this wholeheartedly. It was best, then, to just move on with your lives and not dig into it too much.

The next day was Tuesday, and you were going to go to that meeting with Asgore and the humans come hell or high water. You hadn’t had time to read all of the previous meetings… Not even close. But if you didn’t go, the humans would ask why. Asgore would have to make something up, and then you’d look even more suspicious than you already did. 

Besides, you had things you wanted to say, and you couldn’t bear waiting another week to say them.

As you walked purposefully through a worn path in the forest, Sans’ arm brushed up against yours. You looked over at him. He raised his brows at you in a silent question. You grinned reassuringly, then winked for extra emphasis. He chuckled and shook his head.

“Would you two lovebirds hurry it up?” Undyne shouted from up ahead, where she was keeping pace with Asgore despite having significantly shorter legs. Anxiously, you checked your phone for the time.

“We got time… She can wait,” Sans grunted, and he was right. The meeting didn’t start for another fifteen minutes; you’d arrive at a perfectly acceptable time. No need to rush yourself and be all flustered and out of breath when you got there.

You went over the main points you wanted to bring up in your head while you walked, reciting them over and over until you were suddenly at the base of the Northwest tower. Sans stopped short of the stairs, and you turned to face him. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, but you could tell they were clenched into fists.

“I’ll just chill here, then.” Anyone else would’ve thought Sans sounded perfectly normal, but you could hear the tension in his voice. You touched his elbow and smiled at him again.

“Sounds good… See you in a bit.” The truth was that you and Sans had never been apart since the separation of your souls. Not once. The greatest distance that had ever been between you was when you were in different rooms in the same house. Even then, you always made sure to leave the door between you open. But now, Sans wasn’t allowed to go where you were going. It made no sense for him to attend one of these meetings. You were sure the humans wouldn’t allow it.

“Yup,” he said, and you let your hand fall back to your side. Your fingers clenched tightly around the handle of your cane before you turned away and began to follow Asgore and Undyne up the stairs.

“What’s the deal with you two, anyway?” Undyne fell back to ask once you were out of earshot of Sans. You looked back down at him, getting smaller and smaller the further you climbed. He looked lonely and lost down there by himself.

“Have you ever had your soul fused with someone else’s and then ripped apart again?” you asked, tearing your eyes away from Sans. Undyne looked taken aback… A rare expression on her. 

“Uh, no.”

“Then mind your own business.” Undyne’s ears flattened and you could’ve sworn you heard Asgore stifling a laugh in front of you. 

“Alright, alright… Jeez.” Your friend rolled her eyes and turned back around, taking the steps two at a time until she’d caught back up with the King. 

“Good morning,” you heard Asgore say as he reached the landing ahead of you. Once you finally climbed the last step, you were able to see who he was talking to. It was the usual crowd; Reives, Wolfe, and Charlie. The two agents were sitting next to each other on one side of the table, both dressed in sharp suites. Charlie sat off to the side, a computer open on his lap.

“Good morning, King Asgore…” Reives said with a professional smile. His gaze passed by Undyne and settled on you. “And hello to you, too.” You nodded and forced yourself to smile. As you, Asgore, and Undyne took your places at the table, Reives continued to talk, “Feeling better, I hope?”

“Much better, thanks,” you replied, knowing that you did look healthier than the last time Reives had seen you. You hair had grown in enough that you didn’t feel the need to wear a hat everywhere you went. Your skin was no longer translucent and, although you were still struggling to put on the weight you’d lost, your unhealthy thinness was easily hidden by the right clothes. Self-consciously, you smoothed a hand over your button-down shirt.

“Good to hear, good to hear…” Reives mused, and you glanced over at Charlie to see if he was writing this down. He was typing something, but you couldn’t see what it was from your angle. “Why don’t we get started, then?”

“Of course,” Asgore spoke. Your nervous feet fiddled with the cane you’d set on the ground.

“First things first… Are there any extra supplies you would like from the next drop?”

“Yes, in fact. We were wondering if we could have some extra produce. The amount we are receiving now would be enough to sustain us if the supply drops arrived on time, but they often do not.”

“Right… We could add an extra five pounds without overloading the helicopter. I would only ask for an extra gold piece in exchange.”

“An entire gold coin?” Asgore asked skeptically. Reives licked his lips.

“Well, I would ask for less, but you can’t exactly cut a gold coin in half.”

“Why don’t we pay an extra coin every other supply drop? It’d be like paying half a coin each time,” Undyne piped up, but she sounded bored with herself. Reives’ jaw clenched as he was forced to acknowledge her.

“Good idea… Let’s agree to that.” He looked up at Charlie, as though making sure he was getting all of this down.

You leaned back in your seat, unimpressed by the conversation. Reives had effectively dodged the issue of the supply drops coming late, and Asgore didn’t seem inclined to bring it up again. You could sense that he didn’t want to step on any toes. You remembered what he had told you before, about how you should try to see things from the other side’s perspective. Right now, it just looked like the humans were taking advantage of Asgore’s soft heart. You didn’t understand how this was the same guy who’d murdered children to escape the Underground. Desperate times called for desperate measures, you supposed, but wasn’t this desperate, too?

“Well, if that’s all-”

“Actually, I have a question,” you interrupted Reives, who looked mildly surprised. He leaned forward to listen to you.

“Yes?” You sat up as straight as you could.

“Moving forward, what are your plans for integrating monsters into human society?” There was a beat of silence before the agent responded smoothly,

“Right now, we are working on maintaining peace between our species. That is of utmost importance.”

“So no plans, then?” you asked, your cheeks growing hot from a combination of anxiety and righteous anger. Here was this man who was older, more powerful, and better dressed than you… How could you possibly have the nerve to argue with him? But you knew you had to. Asgore wanted you here for a reason; because you were the only person who could change things. You had to try, even though you were out of your element. Even though you barely had the energy for any of this.

“None at the moment.” Reives kept that fake smile plastered on his face.

“What about that one trip you took to South Ebott?” You couldn’t bear to look at anyone else’s reactions, so you just stared at Reives’ icy blue eyes. “Why don’t we plan another one of those?”

“That endeavor didn’t exactly go well.”

“Maybe not from your perspective,” you said, casually referencing the gold situation. You could tell by his hardened expression that he knew what you were talking about. His smile widened.

“You certainly did your research, didn’t you?” Before you could think of an answer, Reives continued, “It’s interesting to me that you would choose to stay here to work for King Asgore. Most people would rather go home after going through such an ordeal.”

You didn’t know what to say. The way he talked make you certain that he was trying to get something out of you. He wanted you to say something incriminating. You chose your words carefully,

“Probably. But I don’t think that’s relevant to the topic at hand, do you?” Reives tapped his fingers on the table while you held your breath.

“You’re right… Forgive my curiosity. I have a daughter who’s around your age, so I just wonder what it must be like on your parents.”

Your throat constricted as you clenched your hands together in your lap. Did he know about the crate? He had to… It was such a sick, low blow. Finally, you could no longer hold eye contact with him. You cast your gaze down to the table between you.

“Perhaps we could do something slightly more structured this time.” Thankfully, Asgore jumped in to save you just as you were losing your nerve. “The day trip was a good idea in theory. The more the humans see us in person, the less afraid they will be. But walking through the streets may have been too much, too quickly. Instead, maybe we could hold a conference. A town meeting, of sorts.” Reives glanced at Wolfe, who hadn’t said a word this whole time. Now, she spoke,

“It could be feasible. We’d have to find a location large enough, and we should limit the attendees to citizens of South Ebott. It’ll be easier to manage than last time, though.” Reives nodded slowly.

“We’ll work on planning that. I’m thinking late this month, or early January…”

“Christmas is next week. It might be fitting to have it around that time, if we can get everything in order by then,” Wolfe suggested. You couldn’t really imagine her getting into the Christmas spirit. The mental image of her wearing a Santa hat improved your mood somewhat.

“How would you feel about letting the humans see the Underground?” you asked, turning to Asgore for the first time, “I’m not saying we have to plan it now, but it’d be good to show them your world, too. Might make humans empathize with the monsters a little more.” You knew people had to be curious about the Underground. You would’ve been, if you hadn’t already lived in it. Asgore seemed surprised that you’d suggested it. He took a minute to think before responding,

“Hmm… I suppose it would only be fair.” Reives’ expression betrayed nothing, but you thought he was sitting up a little straighter than before. “However, I would insist on choosing which humans are allowed on the trip. I would not want anyone to cause trouble.”

“Of course,” Reives said smoothly, his smile having returned in full force, “Why don’t we wait until after the town meeting? We can discuss this again at a later date.”

“Yes, that seems appropriate,” Asgore agreed, and Wolfe nodded sharply. There was a moment of awkward silence before Reives spoke again,

“Well, if that is all…” He looked over at you, but you didn’t interrupt this time. You had other things you’d wanted to talk about, but you were quickly losing your confidence. It could wait for next time.

“It was nice meeting with you, agents,” Asgore said, with extra emphasis on the word “agents.”

“As always,” Reives added before standing up and holding out his hand. Asgore shook it carefully. You grabbed your cane and stood. By the time you were on your feet, Reives had turned to you with his outstretched hand. His right hand… You had to switch your cane to your other side to shake it.

“See you next week,” you said it like a promise. Wolfe and Reives glanced at each other.

“Indeed.” With that, you, Asgore, and Undyne walked out the door. You looked over your shoulder at Charlie, who hadn’t said a word during the whole meeting. He gave you a smile and a wink when the agents had their backs turned. You grinned, and felt like there was at least one other human on your side.

It wasn’t until you’d hobbled down half the steps that any of you said anything to each other.

“That went quite well, I think,” Asgore spoke first, looking back at you with a warm smile, “I am proud that you were able to maintain your professionalism. It would have been very unfortunate if the situation had escalated.” You grimaced, but took the compliment with a nod. You hadn’t really done anything to deescalate the tension, either, but you supposed it hadn’t gone badly. 

“Do you think we’ll be ready for a town meeting by next week?” you asked absentmindedly, distracted by the sight of Sans waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you. 

“I think so, yes. It is not like we are doing much else.” You barely heard Asgore’s response, too focused as you were on getting down the stairs. You limped down quickly, your cane and feet thudding on every wooden step. Undyne grunted in surprise as you passed her, but Asgore seemed to have expected this and pressed himself against the railing to get out of your way. When you reached the landing, Sans was lying on the ground, his arms crossed under the back of his head. He opened one eye lazily to watch your approach.

“Heya,” he greeted you, trying too hard to look casual. You stood over him and grinned.

“Hey, yourself.” You reached your free hand down toward him, an offer which Sans took eagerly. You pulled him to his feet, glad not for the first time that he was as light as a feather. The skin-to-bone contact put your soul at ease. Truth be told, you hadn’t realized how much you’d missed him up there during the meeting. You didn’t know whether to feel relieved that you’d been able to separate from him without too much of an issue, or guilty that you hadn’t thought of him as much as you should’ve.

Sans let go of you to brush his coat off, though you were sure he’d only been on the ground for a few minutes at most. You saw a suspicious-looking line through the patchy spots of snow on the ground, indicating that someone had been pacing back and forth. Guilt won out.

“How’d it go?” Sans asked as Asgore and Undyne caught up to you.

“Good,” you answered, then looked back at the King for confirmation.

“Yes, I believe we are making progress in the right direction.” The four of you started walking back to camp. Sans sighed almost imperceptibly. He hated walking even more than you did, but he couldn’t take a shortcut. Not on the surface, within sight of the guard towers. The humans may have known about Orion’s teleporting powers, but Sans still wanted to keep his a secret.

As Asgore summarized the meeting for Sans (leaving out the part where Reives mentioned your parents), you began to shiver in the cold. It had been an abnormally warm winter so far, but the weather was starting to catch up with you. The metal in your artificial hips popped, and you winced.

All of the sudden, you felt something warm and heavy drape over your shoulders. You looked at Sans, who was now in only a t-shirt and shorts. You tugged on his coat to keep it from sliding off.

“Thanks,” you muttered, your cheeks red. It wouldn’t have been a big deal, but you were sharply reminded of that first, fateful date back in Snowdin, when Sans had done something similar. You didn’t know what to think about that memory. But, either way, it was an unwelcome intrusion.

“No prob. I didn’t need it anyway… The cold goes right through me.” The two of you smiled at each other stupidly. Behind Sans, Undyne winked at you obnoxiously.

Your group reached camp shortly after, passing by the helicopter that Reives and Wolfe had flown in on. Asgore bid you all farewell before retreating to his house. As soon as he was out of earshot, Undyne punched you in the shoulder.

“That was awesome! Way to stick it to the man!” You blinked.

“Huh?” You’d been expecting her to tease you about the coat thing, but she was grinning at you with genuine excitement.

“Back at the meeting! Man, I wish I could get away with talking like that… But Asgore gets all disappointed whenever I argue with those stuck-up pigs.” You shifted your weight between your sore feet uncomfortably. It wasn’t fair that you were able to speak your mind without fear while Undyne was forced to keep quiet, but she didn’t seem to resent you for it. Far from it. “Maybe things’ll start getting done with a human in our corner.”

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” you said with a tentative smile. You didn’t know how much you’d be able to do, but you were determined to try.

“Anyway, I gotta get back to the Underground… I put Papyrus in charge while I was gone, and who knows what kind of things he’s got my guards doing.” She shook her head, probably remembering the time two weeks ago when Pap had made all of the guards test his word search puzzles for hours on end. “See ya later!”

“See ya.” You waved as Undyne ran off, kicking up clumps of slushy snow in her wake. You and Sans headed off to your own house without a word, your arms bumping together as you walked.

He held the front door open for you, which you walked through gratefully. You immediately flopped face-down onto the couch, letting your cane clatter to the floor. You heard Sans close the door and huff a quiet laugh at the sight of you. He walked up to the couch and carefully removed the two layers of coats from your body. He had to flip you over to unzip the second one, which caused you to groan in protest. You watched him throw the coats into the corner of the room - you really needed to invest in a coat rack. Then, he walked up to your feet to ease off your boats. He was always so much gentler with you than you ever were with yourself, and it gave you a warm feeling in your chest.

Finally, when he decided you were sufficiently comfortable, he propped you up by the shoulders and sat beneath you, resting your head back on his lap once he was settled.

“How’s that?” he asked, looking down at you with a rare, soft expression that you only ever saw him give you and Papyrus. You hummed and tapped your chin thoughtfully.

“I dunno… I could use a couple of blankets. And some hot chocolate… with those little marshmallows. And if you could put on a movie…”

“Of course, your royal highness,” he joked, and you stuck your tongue out at him, “But you’ll have to let me get up, first.”

“Then forget it,” you sighed dramatically. Sans chuckled and unconsciously raised his hand to run his fingers over your short, tickly hair. You suspected that he liked your hair buzzed short like this, and you were weighing the pros and cons of leaving it that way when he spoke again,

“I’m proud of you.” You blinked up at him, feeling oddly exposed as he hovered over you and caressed your skull. “You’re doin’ a lot of good… Helping a lot of people. I’m proud.”

Your heart swelled. After all that you’d done… His support meant the world to you. You remembered him saying that he forgave you as he held you, dying, in his arms. But here, in the calm of your own home, his forgiveness felt more real.

Suddenly, you surged up, simultaneously reaching for the back of Sans’ head to pull him down. You pressed your lips, hard, against his teeth. He made a little, surprised noise, but leaned into the kiss once he got over the shock. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around your back. Even once the kiss had broken, you kept holding each other. Time passed around you, but you felt utterly immune to its influence. You could’ve stayed there forever, with your chest pressed up against Sans’ and his face buried in the junction between your neck and shoulder.

You held onto each other, and just breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Reives... fuck that guy, amiright?
> 
> Anyway, welcome to part 2! I've updated the summary to reflect my plans for Justice. Should be 9 chapters long.
> 
> Here's a challenge... now that it's obvious that I'm naming all of these parts after the soul attributes in the game, try to guess what order they'll appear in the story. Anyone who guesses it right will get a shoutout at the end of the fic (if I remember XD)


	8. Do No Harm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the "sexual themes" tag starts appearing, so be mindful of that. I was uncomfortable writing this on my notebook in class like I usually do, so that's partly why it took so long XD

You and Sans had always kept close to each other, but it felt a little different after that day. You didn’t do it in front of your friends but, when you were alone, you’d sneak kisses every now and then. It was like you were trying to surprise each other with it. Like each kiss was one of you saying, “Hey! Guess what? I still like you.” It was silly, but you considered it a win every time you made Sans blush.

Undyne’s teasing about your relationship started to make more sense now. The two of you hadn’t been too bothered by it before, but now you and Sans burned red and blue, respectively, whenever she taunted you about it.

This came to a head one day when the two of you were over at your neighbor’s house, hanging out with Undyne, Alphys, and Papyrus. You had just gotten back from talking to Asgore. Agent Wolfe hadn’t been able to schedule the town meeting for the next week, so you and the King decided to have a surface festival for the monsters on Christmas day instead. Asgore seemed to think that human holidays were exotic and intriguing even though, as Sans pointed out, the monsters who lived in Snowdin already had a holiday that was very similar to Christmas. Regardless, Asgore thought that it would help the monsters to start assimilating in any way they could, and so you’d agreed to begin preparations for a holiday party in camp.

But, before you could start any of that, you’d promised Alphys that you’d come over to her place and watch her favorite anime. Truthfully, you’d already seen the first two seasons in the other timeline. It was really the only thing you could do for fun while you’d been hiding from Undyne in the True Lab. Now, though, the captain of the Royal Guard was there with you, her arm around the shoulders of her excited, nerdy girlfriend. In order for you all to fit on the couch, Sans had to basically lay on top of you and Papyrus. Sans didn’t seem to mind, but Papyrus kept complaining that his brother’s heels were digging into his leg.

You watched a few episodes, pretending you’d never seen them before, when the sound of something far off in the distance distracted you. In the silence that fell over the room while Alphys was rewinding the next tape, you heard something that sounded like far away chanting.

“Do you hear that?” you asked, concerned. Alphys hit pause and looked over at Undyne with apprehension. The two of them seemed to know something that you didn’t.

“It sounds like someone’s having a party!” Papyrus commented, but you silently disagreed. There was too much of an angry undertone to the voices for it to be any sort of celebration.

“No… Asgore said he thought this might happen,” Undyne groaned in frustration, “It’s protesters, I bet. He figured there’d be more of them now because…” She looked over at you, and you understood. They were there because you’d come out of the mountain and hadn’t gone home. You’d been so isolated from the rest of humanity that you had no idea how the general public had taken your decision to represent the monsters’ interests. But, now that you were thinking about it, you were honestly surprised that the protesters hadn’t come back sooner.

“L-let’s just put on the n-next episode…” Alphys reached for the remote but, before she could press play, you blurted out,

“I’m sorry, guys. I hope I’m not just making things worse…” You bit your lip, unsure of yourself. You’d been pretty confident in the path you were on ever since the meeting, but that sounded like an awful lot of angry people outside. If you could hear them all the way from the border…

“Fuck that!” Undyne exclaimed, thumping her fist on the arm of the couch. You jumped, and Sans frowned.

“Language!” Papyrus chided her, but she ignored him.

“People will find a reason to be mad about anything! If they have a problem, they can take it up with us at the town meeting!” She bared her teeth in a grin, and you smiled tentatively back.

“Although I disapprove of her crude tone, I agree with Undyne!” Papyrus declared, putting his arm around your shoulder in a side-hug. “You’re doing a great job, and everyone here knows it!” From under you, Sans reached to push your head up with his hand.

“Yeah, keep your chin up, kid.” You laughed and swatted his hand away. He grabbed your wrist, and the two of you fought playfully until Sans had both of your hands in one of his. You could sense that he was about to start tickling you with his free hand, and you warned him,

“I _will_ dump you off of this couch.” You gave him a stern look, and he blinked up at you innocently.

“Wasn’t gonna do nothin', babe.” There was a beat of silence, both of you surprised by what he’d just said. You’d never used pet names with each other before, aside from the occasional “kid” or “dumbass.” And you didn’t think those counted much, considering the fact that he called everyone a kid and you called all of your best friends dumbasses.

“Oh my god, get a room!” Undyne hollered. You gave her a sour look.

“ _You_ get a room.” You eyed her arm around Alphys and raised your brows. In retaliation, she planted a wet kiss on Alphys’ cheek, all while flipping you the bird. Alphys’ face burned bright red.

“I AM EMBARRASSED TO KNOW YOU ALL,” Pap shouted, looking distinctly uncomfortable with all of this. For his sake, you rolled your eyes and said to Alphys,

“Alright, alright… Let’s put on the next episode.”

As the Mew Mew Kissy Cutie theme song began to play, you looked back down at Sans. You were a little surprised to see that he was blushing almost as bad as Alphys. The blue glow of his cheeks had even spread across the bridge of his nose. It was cute, but you still felt a bit sorry for him.

You poked him in the back of the head, careful to avoid the small hole in his skull. He turned to look at you. Silently, you mouthed, _”You okay?”_ He nodded and reached to push your chin up again. You snorted, shook your head, and let it go.

The rest of the day passed with minimal lewd jokes. Once you’d all had your fill of anime, you went over to Toriel’s house for dinner. She loved having a full house, and she was more than happy to cook for everyone. Frisk enjoyed the company, too, and they insisted that you go get your playstation after you’d eaten so that you could all play a few games together before their bedtime.

You were tempted to approach Frisk about the dream you’d had before, but you didn’t know what to say. Everything about those fever dreams was disturbing. You didn’t like to think about them. But the one about Chara was particularly bothering you, since it was harder to write that one off as being just a simple dream. Before Orion - before you’d even fallen into the Underground in the first place - you’d had dreams about them that had turned out to be real. When you’d talked to Chara in real life, they’d referenced things the two of you had discussed in your dreams. It all suggested that Chara had spoken to you again while you were sick. A part of you wanted to ask them about the things they’d said. Plus, if that dream was real, then what did that mean about the other dreams you’d had before and after it?

But did Frisk even know about any of that? Was there any point in asking them about it? And then, even if you could get the kid alone to ask them, how would you communicate? You didn’t know sign language. Unless Frisk approached you about it first, you figured it was better to just let sleeping dogs lie.

After Frisk decimated everyone in one of your video games, you all headed back to your own houses. It wasn’t terribly late but, in the dead of winter, it was already pitch black outside by 7. You and Sans stayed up a while longer, drinking some of the spider cider that Toriel had given you to take home. As you often did when you were alone, the two of you talked back and forth about whatever free-floating thoughts happened to come to mind. You almost always rattled on more than he did but, tonight, the difference was even more prominent.

“You okay?” you asked him for the second time that day as you slouched back on the couch. Sans leaned against the opposite wall, nursing his cider. “You’ve hardly said anything. I’d say it feels like I’m having a conversation with a rock, but I actually think the rock would be more talkative than you.” Sans smiled at your lame joke and shrugged noncommittally.

“I just like listening to you. Is that a crime?” Your face felt hot, but you didn’t let his sweet compliment deter you.

“I guess not, but you’re still acting funny.”

“I’m always funny.”

“Touché.”

The conversation died from there. Sans pushed off of the wall and set his now-empty mug on the coffee table. You watched him approach, expecting him to help you to your feet so you could head off to bed together. Instead, he leaned down and kissed you.

You made a little, surprised noise before starting to move your lips against his. The more the two of you kissed, the more you got used to the fact that he couldn’t really reciprocate. You could tell from the way he opened his mouth and pressed against you harder than usual that he was looking for something more serious than just a peck on the teeth.

As you obliged his silent but firm request, you realized that you had no idea what to do with your hands. His were on either side of you, bracketing you into the couch. Hesitantly, you put one hand on his hip, your fingers twitching with nervousness. The only time you could remember kissing him like this before was down in the True Lab, back when you were marked for death and he had wanted nothing from you other than that physical closeness. You hadn’t been sure what to think about it back then, and you still weren’t sure now.

Eventually, Sans did break the kiss to pull you up from the couch. He led you by the hand into the bedroom, and you followed as if in a daze. When you got inside, he closed the door and placed both hands on your shoulders, backing you up until the backs of your knees hit the bed. You instinctively sat down. He took a deep breath, as though stealing himself, before pulling off his shirt and throwing it aside.

Before you could react at all, he bent down to continue the kiss. You were surprised by all of this, but, while Sans was caressing the back of your head and gently rubbing circles into your thigh, you decided you were a-ok with it. You reached up to massage the base of his neck with one hand while smoothing your other over the side of his ribs. He shuddered under you, and you grinned.

Suddenly, Sans pushed you onto your back and swung your legs onto the bed. You yelped as the sharp, unexpected motion made your hips twinge painfully. To your surprise, Sans didn’t even seem to notice. He crawled on top of you, his bones rattling audibly. Everything had been fine just a moment ago, but you were starting to get a bad vibe. You quickly and firmly pushed him away.

“Stop.”

He did. A tiny, shameful part of you doubted that he would, but of course he did. He scrambled back, farther away than he needed to be. Almost falling off of the edge of the bed in his haste to get away from you. His breaths came sharp and quick, and he was trembling.

What the hell happened?

“Sans? What was all that about?” you asked, your voice pitched higher than usual. He wouldn’t look at you… What was going on?

Finally, he groaned and drew his knees up to his chest, burying his face in his legs. You inched toward him, your racing heart now starting to slow. Briefly, you wished you could just read his mind and bring whatever was happening out into the open. But you cast that thought away as soon as it reared its head. You were separate people now, with separate thoughts and experiences. Clearly, something was going on with Sans that you hadn’t noticed. But you noticed it now, and you’d have to just talk about it the old fashioned way.

“It’s okay… You can tell me. We can tell each other anything, right?” You sat next to him and mimicked his pose, resting your chin on your own knees. You waited patiently in the quiet, dark bedroom, listening to the cold wind howling outside until Sans found the words he wanted to use.

“I thought… We’re in a relationship, right?” He peeked up at you, his eyes squinted and his voice strained as though he was trying to hold something in. You licked your lips, and confirmed,

“Yes.” There it was, then. You’d never talked about it, but, really, you’d been in a relationship this whole time. There was always more to it than just a platonic friendship… Friends didn’t share a bed, cuddle, or kiss. Friends also didn’t do… Whatever had just happened.

“Well…” Sans picked at a bit of fuzz on his sweatpants, then rubbed the corners of his eyes. The sound of bone on bone was grating. “I thought… y’know. You’d have certain… expectations. And I just wanted it to happen now so that maybe I’d stop worrying about it all the time. I didn’t… I should’ve paid more attention to you. I’m sorry, I just wanted to get it over with…” He blushed a fierce blue. “Er, no, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t… It’s not you, it’s just…” His words came tumbling out. Too many words to say such a simple thing.

“Sans… I don’t expect anything of you,” you said softly, mortified that you’d been so oblivious to this. You’d just been enjoying the stolen kisses; you hadn’t thought this far yet. But Sans clearly had.

“Other people do,” he grunted, almost too quiet for you to hear. This was about as embarrassed as you’d ever seen him, and you wanted nothing more than to spare him this. You wanted to forget this all ever happened and go to sleep like every other night. But this had to be talked about. You were beginning to see that not everything between the two of you could be left unspoken.

“Is this about Undyne? Because she’s just joking, I thought you knew-”

“It’s not just her!” he interrupted sharply, “It’s like everybody thinks we’re more than we are, y’know? But we ain’t like that, and it’s my fault that we’re not.” You thought for a long moment. Not because you were conflicted, but just because you were trying to think of a way to fix this. Eventually, you blurted out,

“So what if everyone thinks we’re fucking each other?” Sans reeled, his face turning impossibly more blue. You continued undeterred, “You don’t want to, right? And that’s just fine. If you don’t want to do that, then I don’t want to, either.”

“Really?” he asked in a low, skeptical tone. You nodded.

“What’s important to me is that you’re not doing something you don’t want to do. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy,” you said it with utmost confidence and, to your surprise, Sans chuckled.

“Man, I feel stupid now. Been worryin’ about this for who knows how long… Shoulda just talked to you about it, huh?” You laughed along with him.

“Maybe we both need to talk to each other more. Like, about important things. We can’t just keep assuming we know what the other’s thinking.”

“Touché.”

You grinned stupidly at each other for a moment before you grabbed his shirt form the foot of the bed. You held up the ratty t-shirt and shook it a little.

“You want this back?”

“Nah.” Silently, you were relieved. You liked the fact that both of you were so comfortable with each other’s bodies, and you didn’t want that to change. But… You shouldn’t assume that was the case just from this one scenario. You hesitated, then threw the shirt over to the other side of the room. You turned so that you were facing Sans fully before asking,

“What _do_ you like?” He tilted his head, confused.

“Huh?”

“Y’know, like… Okay, so you don’t want to have sex.” Sans flinched, still blatantly uncomfortable with even the mention of the word. You ignored it and continued, “What do you like? Was the kissing okay?” You tried not to put any judgment into your voice so as not to sway his answer. You knew he’d lie if he thought it’d make you happy.

But, secretly, you hoped he was okay with everything you’d been doing up until tonight. You loved the kissing, the cuddling… You knew you’d survive without any of it, but it would be near impossible to stop reaching out to him for physical comfort. Plus, if it turned out that he was uncomfortable with all of that, then what did it say about you? Were you inadequate in some way? Was it because you were a human? Because you were disabled? You knew you shouldn’t think those things, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

Sans stared at you blankly for a moment, then scooted closer. You held your breath and sat up straighter, relaxing your legs. You were surprised when Sans straddled them.

“I like this.” He pressed his bare chest against yours, then wrapped a hand around you to rub your back. He worked at the tight knots in your muscles with his thumb. You arched into his touch and sighed contentedly.

“And this…” He pressed his teeth against your lips in a skeleton kiss, his bones no longer rattling as he began to relax. You did nothing to escalate it, but simply allowed your faces to press flat against each other. A perfect fit. He chuckled, and you felt the laugh rumbling in his ribs.

“You can kiss me, y’know.” You laughed breathlessly. Of course… If Sans had disliked any of this, you would’ve noticed sooner. Like you’d noticed his discomfort tonight. You puckered your lips and gave him a quick kiss before dipping your head to press your foreheads together. This way, you could better see into his eyes. He looked utterly relaxed now; his mouth was no longer bent into that nearly permanent, signature smile. His usually wide eyes, always on alert, were now half-lidded. The bone that made up his face was smooth and unguarded. You knew that you were the only one who ever saw him like this, and the thought gave you a strong, almost possessive feeling.

You hummed lowly and closed your eyes as his hands moved up and down your spine. You appreciated the massage, but were unsure if you were allowed to reciprocate. For now, you just let him touch you and kept your hands folded in your lap. Sans moved to rest his chin on your shoulder, his head leaning heavy against your neck.

“This is nice,” he stated, and you nodded slowly in agreement. Neither of you needed anything more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to copy/paste this from my phone due to lack of internet connection, so if the format's screwy, that's why.
> 
> This was an odd chapter, but the subject had to be addressed. You'll see why soon!


	9. Twin Suns

Before you knew it, Christmas had arrived. It snuck up on you so quickly that you hadn’t thought much about getting gifts for everyone. But, as it turned out, none of the monsters had gotten each other anything, anyway. Most of them were unfamiliar with the holiday and hadn’t thought to get gifts, either.

The only one who ended up getting anything was Frisk. You realized the night before that, while none of the monsters would be too invested in getting presents, the kid might be. They were human, and they’d grown up with presents under the tree on Christmas morning. Or at least, you assumed so. You may not have liked kids much, but the thought of any child not getting anything for Christmas left you with a bad taste in your mouth.

So, on Christmas morning, you woke up early and hunted down that box Asgore had used when he’d carried you up to the surface. In it, you packed up your playstation and all of the games that went along with it. You figured the kid would get more use out of it than you, and your nostalgia for it wasn’t a good enough excuse to keep it for yourself. As soon as Sans woke up, you dragged him over to Toriel’s house to help deliver your gift.

“Oh! Good morning,” Tori said as she answered the door, pleasantly surprised by the unexpected company. She opened the door wider for you to enter. You stomped the snow off of your boots before doing so.

“Good morning, and Merry Christmas,” you said politely while Sans grumbled something unintelligible. He hefted the big box inside, acting like it was such a heavy burden. In reality, the box was only half full. Plus, you knew he was lifting it using mostly magic, so he had no reason to complain.

“Goodness, what is in the box?” Toriel began to reach for it, but you put your hand over the top to prevent her from peeking.

“It’s for Frisk. Humans usually give each other gifts on Christmas, and I didn’t want them to not get anything.” As you explained, you thought you heard dresser drawers opening and closing loudly in the neighboring room.

“Ah, right… That is very sweet of you!” Toriel smiled. Feeling awkward, you shuffled your feet. People didn’t call you “sweet” very often, and you weren’t sure what to do with the compliment.

Thankfully, you didn’t have time to say anything stupid before Frisk burst out of their room. Their hair was a mess and they were dressed very haphazardly. They ran up to the box to put their hands on it, looking up at you eagerly as they bounced up and down on their heels.

“Uh, go ahead. You can open it.” You took your hand off of the top of the box, and Frisk immediately began to dig in. You wished you’d had wrapping paper to prolong the frantic present-opening, but it wasn’t something you could’ve gotten on such short notice. Regardless, Frisk’s face lit up when they saw the console and games inside. Toriel looked over their shoulder and gasped,

“Dear, are you sure you want to give this all away? This is very generous…” You shrugged and rubbed the back of your neck.

“Yeah, sure. Frisk already plays it more than I do, so why not?” You saw a blur of motion out of the corner of your eye. Suddenly, Frisk tackled your legs in a hug, their face pressed into your stomach. You stumbled, and would’ve fallen over if you hadn’t had your cane. They broke away quickly and looked up at you. With a big smile, they signed,

 _"Thank you!"_ You blinked, surprised that you’d understood. You must’ve picked up the simple phrase by just spending some time around Frisk. You grinned back at them and hesitantly ruffled their hair.

“No problem, kiddo.”

After helping Frisk set up the playstation and then eating a breakfast that Toriel insisted you and Sans stay for, you had to hurry to help Asgore and Mettaton set up for the Christmas festival. You’d been the one to suggest asking Mettaton for help, since you knew he’d market it well to the skeptical monsters underground. You were willing to accept the fact that he’d seize control of the whole event, as long as he brought people up here to check it out. Sans had been less than enthusiastic about your suggestion. He spent most of the morning rolling his eyes behind Mettaton’s back as the stylishly dressed robot flitted around, decorating the houses.

“So, Mettaton,” you began to speak as you held a coil of lights in your arm. Mettaton was on the roof, hanging up the multicolored lights as you fed them to him. “We’re putting up all of these decorations to make the empty houses look nicer, but why don’t you just move up here? I’m sure it would boost everyone’s confidence if they saw you living on the surface.”

“Darling, please. I can’t move into one of these dingy old houses! I need to be where my people are!” He waved the lights around dramatically, the metal joints of his robotic arms clicking as he did so. “No, no… This place is far too small for a star like me!” You frowned.

“Ironic, huh? As big as the surface is, with you guys being stuck in this camp… It’s actually pretty claustrophobic.” Mettaton pointed at you.

“Exactly! And _that_ doesn’t help.” He moved his arm to point up at something behind you. You whirled around to look. He was talking about the guard tower. You were pretty sure Daujatas was up in that one right now, unless she had off on Christmas. “Always watching… But, will I mention that to the fans today? Oh no! If you want monsters moving into these houses, darling, consider my lips zipped!” You snorted, then let out some more lights for him.

“Thanks.” You weren’t always a huge fan of Mettaton, but he was helping out an awful lot today. Even if it was just to promote his brand.

You, Sans, Asgore, and Mettaton were stuck decorating the whole morning before the décor was up to the robot’s standards. The other residents of the neighborhood slowly started joining in to help get the job done. Even then, Mettaton was only barely satisfied.

“Well, it’ll have to do,” he said begrudgingly, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the camp. You, on the other hand, were more than happy with the fruits of your labor. The camp actually looked warm and festive - something you hadn’t thought possible of the bleary, identical row of houses. With the colorful lights and wreaths hanging on every front door, it actually reminded you of a suburban neighborhood. Even a few of the nearest trees had lights hanging from their branches. Just as you were wishing for a fresh layer of snow to cover up all of your boot prints, a few, fluffy flakes began to fall from the sky. You smiled contentedly.

“I think it’s beautiful,” you said, with a stubborn edge to your voice. Beside you, Sans huffed as he held back a laugh.

“Yes, yes, it’ll work just fine.” Mettaton waved you off, then turned on heel to walk off dramatically. “I’ll go and rustle up some guests. You can thank me later!” With that, he left for the Underground, his hips swaying as he walked. You shook your head and laughed under your breath.

“He can be alright once you get used to him.”

“Really? Because I hated every minute of that,” Sans said, but with a smile. He slipped his hands in your coat pockets and turned you around to face him. You reached up and brushed the snow off of the top of his skull with your gloved hand.

“What? You don’t like lifting heavy objects in the cold all morning?” With Sans’ powers, he was constantly being ordered by Mettaton to lift a wreath here, or hang some lights over there. He hummed as though seriously considering your question.

“Nope. Not in the least.” He tugged you closer, but you resisted nervously.

“Not out here…” Your eyes flicked between the guard towers. Sans’ face hardened into a forced smile.

“Right.” Slowly, he took his hands out of your pockets and took a step back. Between his fingers, he held up a coin and winked. “Guess I’ll just be taking this for my troubles.”

“Hey! You thief!” You lunged for him, commencing a playful game of chase. You didn’t really care about the gold coin; you didn’t even remember where you got it from. But it was the principle of the matter. It wasn’t a fair game, since you could hardly even walk unassisted, whereas Sans could essentially teleport at will. Eventually, after chasing him around in tight circles for a minute, you managed to hook Sans around the waist with the end of your cane. This, however, set you off balance, and you ended up tripping while dragging Sans down with you. You landed harmlessly in the snow, but poor Sans was wheezing as the sudden change in direction pulled him sharply off course.

“Oh, shit… Are you okay?” You crawled over to where he was lying, face-down, on the ground. He sent up a weak thumbs-up. You grinned and rolled him over, looming over him for a moment before plucking the coin out of his hand. “I’ll take that, then.”

“Better quiet down, or I’ll have to bring you in for disturbing the peace!” You and Sans both jumped and whirled around at the sound of a man’s shout. Much to your surprise, Charlie was walking up the road toward the two of you. You looked back down at Sans anxiously. Although you were about 85% sure that the officer was joking, you weren’t familiar enough with him to know for certain. Sure enough, when you looked back up at him, you could just see through the falling snow that he was grinning crookedly. “Jeez, lighten up. I’m kidding.”

“We knew that,” you shouted back defensively as Sans slipped out from under you. He stood up, then held a hand out for you. You were brushing the snow off of your knees by the time Charlie was close enough to not have to yell anymore.

“Nice decorations,” he said with an appreciative nod. You and Sans glanced at each other, silently arguing about who should be the one to ask. Sans lost.

“Uh… No offense, but… What’re you doing down here?” he asked, his arms crossed defensively. The guards _never_ came down from their towers, except when they were unloading a supply shipment from the city. The fact that Charlie was so casually sauntering around camp felt like an invasion. Even as a human, yourself, you felt like your safe place was being violated. Charlie stared, wide-eyed, between the two of you. He clearly didn’t get it.

“Oh, I just saw you guys putting up the lights and stuff so I just thought I’d pop down and say… Merry Christmas?” He paused, then gestured back to his tower. “I mean, I should probably get back-”

“No, why don’t you stay?” you interrupted with a smile. You felt Sans’ eyes boring into you, but you ignored him for now. “We’re trying to get some monsters up here to celebrate with us, and they’d probably like to meet you.” Charlie kicked the snow with his foot apprehensively.

“Um… Yeah, I mean… I guess I could do that.” You hadn’t really expected him to agree, but you were glad when he did. Your smile grew.

“Great! Asgore was just making some tea for us while we waited for people to get here. Why don’t we go see if he’s done?” Without waiting for an answer, you started off in the direction of the King’s house. Sans fell into step beside you, while Charlie trailed behind. Once he was far enough away that you were certain he wouldn’t overhear, you whispered to Sans, “Maybe, if people see that the guards aren’t all bad, they’ll feel better about moving up here.” Sans hummed contemplatively.

“I dunno. Maybe.” You glanced over your shoulder at Charlie, who gave you a hesitant grin.

“Plus… y’know… It’s Christmas. It’d be pretty crappy to have to spend the holiday up in that tower.” You had no idea what Charlie’s family situation was like; you didn’t know a single thing about the guy, other than that he hailed from South Ebott. But, regardless of whether or not he had a family he was missing today, you figured he might appreciate a couple hours off. He didn’t seem too worried about getting in trouble for leaving his post, at any rate.

“Aw, aren’t you a kind soul,” Sans teased, and you jabbed him with your elbow.

“I’m a persevering soul, get it right.”

When Asgore answered the door, he was more than a little surprised to see Charlie accompanying you. Upon seeing the King in his casual, weekend clothes, the guardsman took a step back.

“Y’know, maybe I should just go back to my post. You guys have a good holiday-”

“No, please, come in. I insist,” Asgore offered with a gracious smile. Charlie stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

“Alright, then.” With that, the four of you took shelter from the falling snow in Asgore’s house, sitting around his dining room table to sip your tea. You didn’t talk about anything important; mostly just about how unfair it was that Charlie had to work on Christmas day.

“Eh, it’s not so bad,” he said, leaning back in his chair and stretching his legs out. It was always hard not to feel at home in Asgore’s house, and it seemed like Charlie was not immune to that welcoming feeling. “At least I know nothing’s gonna happen today. It’s not like protesters are gonna hike all the way out here on Christmas.”

“Do they cause much trouble?” Asgore asked, to which Charlie shook his head.

“Nah. Everyone respects the border pretty well. They’re just loud, is all… Gets annoying.”

You were quiet as Asgore and Charlie continued their conversation. You’d managed not to think about your family so far today, but all of this talk about the protesters had you wondering. What were your parents doing today? If you’d been home, the three of you would’ve already torn open all of the presents you’d gotten each other. There was never a lot, with you being an only child. But it was always fun, anyway. Then, you probably would’ve driven down to your grandma’s house in Stonewall. It was a long trip from your home, but if you guys didn’t visit Grandma, your uncle surely wouldn’t, and you didn’t want her to be alone on Christmas. Were Mom and Dad there now? Stonewall was closer to Mount Ebott than your house in Pueblo… Right now, they might only be a few hours away from you.

While you were lost in thought, you vaguely heard someone saying your name.

“Huh?” you snapped out of it, and Asgore patiently repeated himself,

“It seems as though Papyrus and Frisk managed to convince someone to come up to the surface…” You whirled around in your seat to look out the window. Sure enough, a family of dinosaur-like monsters were following Frisk and Papyrus down the road. You recognized one of them from the game; the armless, yellow child aptly named “Monster Kid.” The rest of the family passed by the window too quickly for you to get a good look at them. From outside, you heard a high-pitched squeal.

“Let’s go see what all the fuss is about,” Sans suggested. With that, all four of you scrambled to set your empty mugs in the sink and hurried outside. Charlie was the only one who trailed behind when you threw open the front door and stepped back out into the cold.

Immediately, a snowball flew past your head and hit Asgore’s window. You flinched, and were sharply reminded of that day you’d been hit in the face with a snowball under similar circumstances. 

“Sorry!” a young voice called out to you. You turned and saw Monster Kid running from Frisk. He stopped suddenly and made a face at the human child. “Not fair, Frisk! I can’t make snowballs!” Frisk, who already had another snowball poised and ready to be thrown, pouted and let their weapon fall back to the ground.

“HELLO, SIBLINGS!” Papyrus called out to you and Sans, waving both of his arms as though worried you wouldn’t see him. Standing next to him were three other similar-looking monsters. You assumed that the two larger ones were the parents, one of whom was staring up at the cloudy sky while the other looked around anxiously. The smallest newcomer, a tiny Monster Kid lookalike with a bow on her head, stood between her mom and dad with a blank expression on her face.

You waved back and watched as Monster Kid’s mother whispered something to Papyrus. His response was loud enough for you to hear as clear as day,

“Yes, of course! You should come and meet them!” This did not appear to be what the monsters had in mind. The one staring at the sky, who you assumed to be the father of the family by his sharp suit, snapped out of his daze and shared a worried look with his wife. You leaned your shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed, and watched as Papyrus cheerfully led the unwilling family up to Asgore’s front door.

“Brother! Sibling! These are MK’s parents and sister! And… Oh! Hello!” Once he got closer, Papyrus caught sight of Charlie hovering behind you. 

“Who’s that?” MK’s mom asked Papyrus in a shrill voice. Charlie cleared his throat and answered for himself,

“I’m Charlie, I’m one of the guards…” He gestured helplessly up toward where his tower loomed over the camp. “I just came down to say ‘hey.’ So, uh. Hey.” The parents glanced at each other again. The father shuffled closer to his daughter and asked skeptically,

“You’re a guard? Like, a royal guard?” Charlie furrowed his brow.

“Huh? I don’t know about that… I mostly just sit up in my tower and watch… It’s pretty boring, actually.” The little girl showed emotion for the first time, cracking a smile and letting out a light, tinkling giggle. Charlie smiled back at her and crouched down to her height. “Hey, there. What’s your name?”

“She doesn’t talk,” the child’s mother answered for her, “Her name’s Elise.” Charlie looked up at her and nodded seriously.

“Elise… One of the best names around, if I do say so myself.” The girl laughed again, ducking her head to try to hide it.

Now that their daughter seemed to approve of Charlie, the adult monsters relaxed marginally. They turned their suspicious glares over to you, instead. Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to win over their kid, you excused yourself,

“I think I’ll go check on Frisk. How about you, Sans?” You shot him a pleading look. He got the memo.

“Yeah, right behind ya.”

With that, the two of you left Asgore and Charlie with the monster family and hurried outside. You felt a little bad abandoning Charlie, but he was likable enough that you were sure he’d be able to make friends, even with the skeptical monsters.

Once you left the house for real, you noticed that there were far more people outside than there had been before. Undyne, Alphys, and Toriel had returned, and it looked like at least a couple of them had been successful in convincing people to visit the camp. A few families had gathered outside. The parents all huddled together, either staring at the sky in awe or watching nervously as their kids played together in the snow.

You and Sans ended up not joining them. Instead, you helped Toriel make hot chocolate for everyone. It was hardly a three person job, but it didn’t feel right for you to join all of the monsters outside. You didn’t really belong. 

It seemed like everyone else was having a good time, though. Once Mettaton finally arrived, he brought with him enough guests to double the size of the party. His mere presence caused people to relax and smile more, so not even Sans could be mad that he was basically running the show.

When the snow started to come down in wet, heavy clumps, everyone quickly hurried indoors. There were too many people to cram into Asgore’s living room, so Toriel graciously offered up her own house for people to take shelter in. The monsters joked about how similar the two houses were, and how the humans clearly had no flare for style. You found yourself feeling a little irked by the jabs; after all, the monsters had no idea what actual human houses looked like. There was plenty of variety once you got past the haphazardly-built camp houses. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly why the generalization that humans were uncreative bothered you so much, but it did.

At any rate, you were too busy to ponder it much. You and Sans constantly hurried back and forth between the two houses, offering hot chocolate and snacks to the many guests. Sans was the only one really doing any work since, with your cane, you didn’t have enough hands to be much help carrying things. But, because you were taller than him, you were better at carving a path through the crowds of people. So you felt at least slightly useful in that sense.

You and Sans checked in on Charlie often but found that, as predicted, you needn’t have worried about him. The adults grudgingly accepted his presence, while the kids openly flocked to him. He started out just playing tea party with Elise using Asgore’s teacups, but gradually got roped into babysitting all of the children. Curiously, he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he enjoyed playing whatever silly games they made him partake in. After a while of running after the kids, though, Charlie announced that he should get back to work.

“Thanks for letting me crash your party,” you overheard him telling Asgore. The King smiled warmly.

“It was no trouble, Have a good evening, Officer.”

“You, too. And Merry Christmas.” As he was leaving, Charlie caught sight of you. He gave you and Sans a friendly wave from across the room. You waved back and watched him leave, feeling like you knew him better now than you did before today.

When Charlie left, everyone else slowly started to file out, too. Once all of your monster guests had gone back to their homes in the Underground, you approached Asgore to ask how he thought it had gone.

“I believe it was a success, wouldn’t you say?” he said as he washed mugs and teacups in the sink. You sat, exhausted from the day’s activities, while Sans pushed chairs back into their proper places. You lifted your legs one at a time onto a chair that Sans pushed in across from you.

“Yeah, I guess so. Did anyone ask about moving in?” As Sans finished with his meager assistance, he flopped into the chair next to you. Unable to reach across the table to prop his own feet up, he rested his bony legs on top of your own. You made a face at him.

“Unfortunately, no. Most of those who came to visit today have young children. There are no schools around here, so I could understand why they would be unwilling to make the move.”

“Why was it all families, though? I wasn’t really expecting that.”

“From what I heard, the parents seemed to want their children to see the sky. Though it was a rather poor day for that,” Asgore commented. You glanced out the window. While the snow had been light and fluffy earlier in the day, it was now coming down with a fierceness. It seemed like it might develop into a blizzard soon.

“Maybe we should get back home, while we can still see two feet in front of our faces,” Sans was half-joking, but you agreed with him. Abruptly, you dropped your feet to the ground, causing Sans’ legs to fall, too. He grunted, but otherwise showed no sign of having been disturbed.

“Thanks for hosting all of those people, Asgore… We should text Tori to thank her, too,” you said to Sans, even though you knew you’d have to be the one to take the initiative to do it.

“Oh, it was no trouble. I should be thanking you for proposing the idea.” You smiled to yourself as you pulled on your coat and gloves. You felt like you hadn’t been able to contribute much during the actual event, but you were glad the idea had at least been a good one.

“No problem. See you later,” you bid the King farewell. Sans gave him his usual, lazy wave before the two of you began the trek back home.

The walk to the next house over took much longer than it had any right to. You and Sans held hands to keep from losing each other. You thought it was silly, but he seemed genuinely anxious that you might slip away and get lost, so you humored him. You figured it might have something to do with how you first met; with you lying, unconscious, in the snow. 

After struggling for a good few minutes in the storm, you finally made it back inside. You and Sans let out a collective sigh of relief when the door closed, and then laughed when you saw the snow that had accumulated on top of the other’s head. You brushed the snow off of his skull while he shook it off of your hat. You trudged to bed early, both of you too tired from the day’s work to stay up until a reasonable time.

Sans immediately flopped into the bed that neither of you had bothered to make that morning, while you took a little more care to get ready. You brushed your teeth, ditched your pants, and changed into a clean shirt. By the time you got out of the bathroom, you saw that Sans was in the same position you’d left him in. You snorted and shook your head. You crawled into bed next to him and pulled up the blankets around both of you.

Once you joined him, he seemed to snap out of his stupor. He propped himself up with one arm. You shot him a questioning look.

“So I was wondering…” he started, then paused. Sensing that this was going to be a serious conversation, you sat back up to face him.

“Yeah?”

“I thought of something I’d like to try… If you’re okay with it.” You saw a sort of excitement in his expression which made it impossible to refuse.

“Depends on what it is, but sure.” As soon as you said that, he scooted closer to you.

“Lie down and relax… I wanna try pulling out your soul.” Automatically, you flinched at the suggestion. Sans furrowed his brow. “‘Course, if you don’t want to… Just forget I suggested it…”

“No, no,” you said, biting your lip, “I just… Why do you want to see my soul?” You remembered having your soul pulled from your body on multiple occasions, and it was never particularly pleasant. Having the most basic, personal part of yourself on display to be gawked at wasn’t very fun. And then, after that one dream…

“I thought, well… There are stories about human souls. I don’t really know what’s true, but I thought it might be something intimate we could do that doesn’t involve…” He was blushing again, and seemed unable to elaborate further. You thought you got the basic gist, though.

“Let’s try,” you made the executive decision, “If either of us doesn’t like it, then no big deal. We just stop.” Truthfully, you just didn’t want to disappoint Sans. You knew you were being a little hypocritical; you’d told him never to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with just to please you, and yet here you were, doing exactly that. But this was different. It wasn’t sex, it was… Well, you weren’t really sure. All that you’d gotten from his explanation was that it had something to do with your soul.

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Sans said, his quickness of speech betraying his eagerness to give this a shot; whatever “this” was. Obediently, you laid back and tried to relax as Sans delicately placed a hand on your chest. You were sure he could feel your heart pounding before he drew his hand away, slowly drawing your soul from your body.

As soon as it emerged, you gasped audibly. Not at the feeling of being so utterly exposed, though that was there, too. You were more caught up in the sight of it. Your soul was not a solid purple, like it should’ve been. Instead, it was a mixture of lilac and white. A sense of unease fluttered in your ribcage; this was the same soul you’d seen in your dream. It was real.

“Hey, take it easy,” Sans said lowly, heading off your panic at the gates, “It’s okay… I thought this might happen.”

“H-huh?” You fidgeted and watched nervously as the contrasting colors in your soul writhed around each other. Sans brought his hand down to rub your hip soothingly.

“It was pretty unlikely that the DTEM would be able to separate the parts of our souls flawlessly… But, look. It’s okay, see?” You did as you were told and looked at it apprehensively. It was… Well. You’d only seen your real soul once, and Orion’s a handful of times. Though it had initially reminded you of Orion, now that you were looking at it more closely, you could tell that there were differences. Though your soul did look larger than normal, it wasn’t nearly the size Orion’s had been. And, while theirs had been an even mix of you and Sans, your soul now looked to contain significantly more purple than white. It was mostly you, with just… A little extra.

But a little bit missing, too.

“Can I see _your_ soul?” you asked, calm but eager. As you settled down, the colors seemed to settle, too. The purple appeared to prefer to gather in the center, while the white parts surrounded it on the outside. Like the bits of Sans’ soul were shielding your own.

“What? No,” he said, startled by your request, “I mean, ya can’t. My soul can’t leave my body… It’s not like yours.”

“How do you know?” you challenged, “If my soul is different, then I bet yours is, too.” He huffed an incredulous, disbelieving laugh.

“Well, ‘suppose it’s only fair that you get to try…” You sat up, forcing him to back up or else bump into your soul. Now that you were more comfortable with how it looked, you weren’t so bothered by it being out in the open. This wasn’t like the other times, when Undyne, Alphys, or Papyrus had seen your soul. This was just you and Sans, and you had no reason to be self-conscious around him. Hell, you’d _shared_ a soul for a long while. It was no skin off your back if he saw yours now. Part of it was his, anyway.

“...How do I do it?” you asked, suddenly aware that you had no idea how to summon someone’s soul. You’d summoned your own in your dream, but was that even possible? Regardless, you didn’t think that translated to real life.

“Just… Here,” Sans gently took your wrist and guided your hand to rest, palm down, on his sternum. “In theory, it should work if you just will it to. But, y’know… You’re a human, with no magic, and I’m a monster, with a soul that can’t be summoned. So the odds of this working are-” He was abruptly cut off as you pulled your hand back sharply, taking with you a heart-shaped soul as if it were tied to your wrist by an invisible string. Sans wheezed as it burst from his chest. The spots of white in his eyes contracted until they were mere pinpricks.

“Oh, I’m sorry… I should’ve gone slower,” you apologized, clenching your jaw in worry. You reached out to physically comfort him, but aborted the motion halfway though. You couldn’t reach his shoulder without brushing against one of your souls, and you felt instinctively that you shouldn’t do that.

While Sans recovered, you found yourself staring at the soul hovering next to yours. They complimented each other perfectly; while yours was larger than it should’ve been, his was a bit smaller. Yours was mostly purple, where his was mostly white. Wisps of lilac swirled around, darting in circles while the white, vapor-like material shifted to accommodate its quick movements. As Sans calmed down, the purple moved to encapsulate the white, shielding it from outside forces.

With both of your souls out, the bedroom was blanketed in a soft, light purple glow. You and Sans sat across from each other, just staring at the pair of souls breathlessly. Outside, the cold wind rattled your shutters as falling snow beat heavily against the window. Here, though, in the comfort of your own home, you felt warmer than ever.

You were the first to snap out of it, and ducked your head as you let out an airy laugh.

“You were saying?” Sans blinked a few times, then chuckled.

“Heh. Never mind.” There was another moment of silence, shorter than the last, before you asked,

“Was this what you wanted to try?” Privately, you thought this wasn’t nearly as much as Sans had hyped it up to be. You’d been surprised to see your soul at first, but you were already used to it by now. It seemed to fit, especially when it was sitting right beside Sans’. You felt… At ease, knowing that you each held a part of the other’s soul. A part of you was almost glad that the soul separation hadn’t worked as intended.

“Not quite,” Sans said, and you saw the colors in his soul churn a little. “I wanted to…” He reached out for your soul, and the light from it made his skeletal fingers appear purple. His hand hovered while he looked up into your eyes. You nodded, then watched as he closed the distance between his body and your soul.

The resulting explosion of feeling was so intense that you doubled over, keening from the intense shock of it. Vaguely, you heard Sans’ sharp intake of breath. Your foreheads smashed together, with Sans’ soul hovering precariously between your two chests, just barely not touching either of you. You shuddered, and could do nothing but watch, helplessly, as your own memories began to flit through your mind. Like a VHS tape on fast-forward, you saw behind your closed eyelids every significant thing you had done since Orion’s passing. Waking up in your own body, feeling the pain and confusion of it all over again. Seeing your parents, feeling their arms around you, and then the crashing wave of sorrow from their rejection. You sobbed and clutched Sans’ upper leg in a tight grip, the feeling of his sweatpants and the thick bone underneath grounding you at least somewhat.

Things got better, and worse. A rush of joy as you remembered playing video games at your house with all of your friends. You felt high as you recalled the snowball fight, and then an immediate crash when you fell ill. Silent tears ran down your face as the dreams replayed themselves. Sans groaned, and you felt him pull your soul closer to his own chest. But, like everything else, it quickly passed, and you were onto the next memory.

Eventually, it was all over, and you were left feeling wrung out. You hiccupped wetly, then shivered. Sans was still holding your soul; you could _feel_ it, even though your eyes were still closed. You took shaky breaths, and your heartbeat gradually slowed. Now that it was over, you just felt warm. Like Sans was everywhere, holding you close in every possible way. You sighed, and your grip on his leg loosened until your hand slipped off of him entirely. You didn’t need the physical tether anymore. Now that you were caught up with the present, this felt… Well, in a word, it was nice.

“I’m glad,” Sans mumbled. You hummed. You were as surprised as you could be in such a calm, zen-like state.

 _Can you hear me?_ you asked silently, talking to him like you used to when you were Orion. There was a long moment of silence. So long that you thought it hadn’t worked. But then, Sans spoke in a whisper,

“Yeah… Guessin’ it doesn’t work the other way around, though. You didn’t answer me.” 

_Sorry. Maybe I have to touch yours…?_ With a great effort, you opened your eyes halfway. You tried to lift your hand, but your limbs felt like lead. 

“Wait, let’s just do this…” You watched as, slowly, Sans guided your soul closer to his own. You only had a second to register what he was doing before you saw your two souls come together.

It happened all over again, but with your roles reversed. Memories, emotions, thoughts that weren’t yours flashed through your mind. You felt the pain and fear that had come when Sans had suddenly felt that you had gone from his body. Within seconds, you relived everything that had happened since that day from Sans’ perspective. You saw Sans’ hands as they carefully shaved your head, felt his hopelessness as he watched you grow weaker and weaker by the day. Then, the immense relief when Papyrus was able to heal you. Followed almost immediately by devastation when you fell sick. His thoughts and feelings were so closely tied to your unstable health; like a rowboat desperately struggling to stay afloat on a rough, unpredictable sea. You felt him cry and shake uncontrollably until his memories caught up to the present. You tried to send soothing feelings his way, and found yourself making a shushing sound as you did so. Eventually, he settled down, just as you had.

For a while, your thoughts mingled together clumsily. You felt, strangely, as if you had two bodies. You could feel Sans’ hand gripping your hip as if it were _your_ hand, touching yourself. You felt what it was like to be made of bones again, and reveled in sensations that you’d never thought you’d feel after Orion had died. Sans, meanwhile, experienced something entirely new. You felt his wonder as he took stock of your body, getting particularly caught up in the feeling of your heart beating in your chest.

“You’re amazing.” To your surprise, you felt your own mouth forming the words. You and Sans spoke them at the same time, even though it was definitely Sans who had meant them. Curiously, you tried to raise Sans’ hand, yourself. It was too difficult to separate your own body from his, though, and both of you ended up raising your hands at the same time.

 _Feels weird,_ Sans thought, and you agreed. Next, you wondered if you could use Sans’ magic. You’d been able to do that when you were Orion, and this experience felt very similar to that. 

_Let’s not push it this first time,_ he advised, and you felt a thrill at the suggestion that he wanted to do this again. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, and were thankful that Sans kept his closed as you did so. You had a feeling that seeing out of two sets of eyes would be very disorienting. You saw your two souls pressed together, glowing so brightly that you had to squint to look at them. Your hands were still raised, and you tried to bring them together. The skeletal hand moved at the same time as the flesh-covered one, and they crashed together harder than you’d intended. After some fumbling, you managed to twine your fingers together.

 _Can we sleep like this?_ you asked, wanting to feel what it was like to dream with him again. Both of your faces smiled.

 _Yeah, let’s try it._ With some difficulty, the two of you managed to coordinate your bodies well enough to lay down together. You laid facing each other, with your souls resting side-by-side in the space between your chests. Your legs were tangled together to the point where you had no hope of telling whose were whose. You concentrated on your breathing, making Sans’ chest expand and contract in time with yours. It took only moments for both of you to fall into an easy sleep, feeling that everything was right with the world now that your souls were together again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of everything in this chapter... Y'all better be cherishing this fluff


	10. Auribus Teneo Lupum

Sans’ legs bounced up and down impatiently as he watched the clock. You’d left at six, and it was now eight-thirty. The meeting was only supposed to last two hours… What was taking so long? Maybe you hadn’t seen his text; maybe you didn’t know he had gone to Toriel’s house. Should he go back home? No… He couldn’t stand it there without you. And you always looked at your phone. You’d see it, even if it wasn’t until you got home and noticed that he wasn’t there.

He watched, tapping his fingers on his knees, as Toriel exited Frisk’s room and quietly closed the door. She’d insisted that the kid go to bed at their usual bedtime. No matter how much they’d whined and begged, she wouldn’t let them stay up and play another game with Sans. He had a feeling it was because Tori wanted to talk to him about something serious. She’d been shooting him odd looks ever since he got here. Sure enough, she padded over to the couch and sat next to him. She put a hand over his restless fingers.

“Relax, dear. I am sure the meeting is simply running long.” Remembering himself, Sans shook off Tori’s hand and leaned back into a more casual pose.

“‘Course. They probably found something to argue with Reives about. Guessin’ they’ll have a story to tell when they get back home.” Toriel gave him a long, searching look. Sans didn’t fidget under it, but maintained his relaxed posture expertly. 

“How are the two of you doing? Forgive me if I am being presumptuous, but you appear to be rather… close.” Sans chuckled at her wording. “Close” was an understatement, and he was sure she knew that. Even Toriel laughed along with him. “Well, how would you have liked me to put it?”

“Nah, that’s just fine… We’re doing fine.” Tori raised a brow.

“...Just fine?” Sans grinned and shrugged. He wasn’t about to go into detail. The two of you hadn’t talked about it per se, unless you counted the free-flowing thoughts between your conjoined minds. But neither of you wished for any of your friends to know about your... _activities_ , which had become a nightly ritual.

The truth was that things were more than fine; they were great. The soul merging… sharing… whatever it was you were doing… Had to have been one of the best ideas Sans had ever come up with. He no longer had to wonder what you were thinking or feeling. He didn’t have to be paranoid that you were hiding something from him, like you so often used to hide your physical ailments before you found that Papyrus could heal them. Not that he didn’t trust you. Far, _far_ from it. He had to trust you in order to share such an integral part of himself. He could never imagine taking such a leap with anyone else. Of course, with you, he had practice. Once you got caught up with each other’s memories, soul sharing felt an awful lot like just being Orion. If he hadn’t had that experience with you, he didn’t know if he’d be comfortable with the soul stuff. But now, it was almost a… comforting feeling. Like coming home.

But he couldn’t tell Toriel any of that. No one would understand. As far as he knew, no two people had ever done this before. Monsters couldn’t usually separate their souls from their bodies. Maybe humans used to bump souls back when they knew a thing or two about magic, but they certainly didn’t anymore. Point being that, even if he could’ve found words to express what the two of you did at night, he would've been met with a blank stare.

So, instead of getting into it, he laughed and put his feet up on the coffee table.

“Well, more than fine, I’d say.” Oddly, Tori’s smile seemed strained. Did she disapprove? Immediately, Sans went on the defensive, “What, you got a problem?”

“Oh! No, I would not say that.” Toriel’s eyes were wide, startled by Sans’ confrontational tone. “I am merely… concerned. Your… companion seems to be doing fine for themself, but I sometimes find myself worrying about you, dear.” With a huff, Sans crossed his arms and tensed up even more.

“How so?”

“Well…” She glanced over at Frisk’s closed door, then lowered her voice, “I am worried that you are not living your own life, my friend. You pass each day simply following them around, as if you were still in one body. I take it they usually decided where to go and what to do, correct?”

Sans clenched his jaw. It took a lot for him not to get up and take the nearest shortcut out of there. Because the truth was… She was kind of right, in a twisted way. He did follow you around and you did make most of the decisions, both now and when you’d been Orion. But you were both happier that way. You hated being controlled; you feared confinement more than anything. He saw it in your nightmares, in the deepest recesses of your mind. Meanwhile, Sans was just lazy. He didn’t like making decisions, and hated dealing with the consequences of those decisions even more. It was easier to let you take control. He’d fought it at first; he remembered, with fondness, the days when he’d take over Orion’s body and you’d grumble about him being a “control freak.” But he quickly learned that it was easier to just let you do things. Why not, when it benefitted you both?

Tori wouldn’t get that, though. When he said nothing, she took it as confirmation.

“The two of you are not in an equitable relationship. You are giving more, and they are taking. I am sure they do not mean to take advantage of you… I know when Asgore and I-”

“No offense, but we’re nothing like you and Asgore,” he growled, “You wouldn’t understand, so don’t go tryin’ to give us advice.” Right on time, Sans’ phone buzzed. It was you. Of course it was; no one else ever texted him. He looked away from Toriel, who sat, stiffly, beside him, and focused on the message you'd sent him.

 _“Back. I’m at home, want me to come over?”_ He typed back quickly, his skeleton fingers tapping out a fast rhythm on the keys.

 _“No, I’m leaving. Be right there.”_ When he looked back up, he saw that Tori was watching him with a sad expression. It irritated him.

“I gotta go.” He stood, itching to get back home to you.

“I see,” she replied simply, sighing almost imperceptibly. Sans opened a shortcut, but paused. He turned back to look at Tori. He smiled, but his eyes turned dark and blank.

“Never talk to either of us about this again.” He didn’t bother waiting for her reaction before disappearing from sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to a Sans chapter, where talking about the reader without naming them is near impossible and the word count doesn't matter.
> 
> ...It's always interesting to narrate things from Sans' perspective. He doesn't tend to elaborate as much as the reader.


	11. For Your Entertainment

Finally, Wolfe managed to schedule a date and location for the town meeting between the monsters and humans in South Ebott. January 5th, in the gymnasium of the small town’s only high school. You, Asgore, Reives, and Wolfe spent the whole meeting beforehand talking logistics, while Undyne and Charlie leaned back in their chairs, looking bored. You’d pushed for mandatory background checks on all of the humans wanting to go, and the agents grudgingly acquiesced. The gym was, apparently, rather small, which was good in your opinion. Not many people would be allowed in, so there was less of a chance that someone wishing to do harm could slip by security. Unfortunately, the agents did insist on allowing a few reporters into the event. You weren’t sure how you felt about that, knowing what you did about how the media could twist things. Asgore was enthusiastic about spreading the good word about monsters, though, and you couldn’t very well warn him in front of Reives and Wolfe. 

You found yourself growing more and more nervous about it as the day crept closer. Far more so than you had been for the field trip way back when you’d been Orion. You’d played a large part in setting this one up, and you desperately wanted it to go well. It was really your first test as an ambassador, and you wanted to show Asgore that you could do this. And Reives, if you were being honest, though you were loathe to admit that you wanted to impress him. 

Your nights with Sans were like an oasis in the desert of anxiety. The soul sharing, as you’d taken to calling it, became a nightly ritual. Sans’ calm, easy-going nature tempered your worries. When thoughts were tumbling around uncontrollably in your mind, he’d surround you with soothing vibes to bring you back to Earth. It was just like when you’d shared a body… Or at least, when you’d shared a body and gotten along with each other. The nice thing was that, instead of being forced to occupy the same mindspace 24/7, you were able to spend time apart. You actually looked forward to soul-sharing, rather than getting annoyed with Sans constantly reading your thoughts. You had the ability to escape that during the day, and it fostered a much less antagonistic relationship between the two of you.

When you were worried about things like the upcoming town meeting, you usually slept less and dreamed more. They weren’t pleasant dreams, either; nightmares about being trapped, being held down, being crushed by walls closing in around you… They all tended to feature heavily in your stress dreaming repertoire. But, with Sans in your mind with you, he’d interrupt those dreams before they even started. Instead, you’d dream of flying. Or walking on the bottom of the ocean. Or lying on a bed of straw as you watched birds flitting between the rafters of an old barn. You hadn’t realized just how many good memories you had as Orion until Sans was there to point them out to you.

You felt bad that Sans was always the one soothing you, and not the other way around. But he insisted that you helped him, too. You weren’t sure how, but he seemed happy every time your souls came together. So you took his word for it.

The night before the town meeting, you had a stress dream about being locked outside of the camp. A giant, medieval-looking stone wall ran along the border, separating you from the monsters. Faceless human guards leered at you from the battlements as you cried for them to let you in. Before the dream could develop any further, Sans interfered by willing the wall to melt to the ground. The trees around you groaned and creaked as they were uprooted, moving further away from you to form walls and pillars. The ground hardened and smoothed, morphing before your eyes into golden tiles. When you looked up, you realized where you were.

“Judgment hall? Odd choice,” your voice echoed as you spoke to Sans, who you found leaning sideways against one of the marble pillars. He stepped out of the shadows with his hands in his pockets. He wore his old clothes, but they looked new again. The blue hoodie that was still hanging in Orion’s closet, now ripped up beyond repair. The gym shorts, also folded up in Orion’s room. And the pink slippers, which were lost forever in another timeline. They silenced his footsteps as he walked to the center of the hall.

“Hmm… Didn’t mean to bring us here.” He frowned, then closed his eyes and shrugged, “Ah, well. Can’t always pick your dreams.”

“This isn’t a nightmare, is it?” you asked, crossing your arms. The golden light from the windows shined brightly off of Sans’ bones, making him look almost like he was glowing.

“Never a nightmare when you’re here, sugar.” He winked and gave you a silly grin. You rolled your eyes and closed the gap between you, satisfied that this wasn’t going to be one of his bad dreams. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his hoodie. It smelled fresh and clean; if you’d needed another sign that this wasn’t reality, then that would’ve been it.

“Wish I knew how you did that. I’d change your dreams, if I could figure out how,” you said into the fabric of his clothes. Whenever Sans was having a nightmare, you were always helpless to do anything. But then, his nightmares typically involved you in some way… You killing him, or you controlling Frisk as they killed him. You were always forced to observe from inside of your own body, incapable of stopping yourself. Perhaps your dreams were easier to change because they weren’t usually based in reality.

“Think you hit that on the nose,” Sans commented on your thoughts, a habit of his which had long since stopped being disconcerting to you, “But, hey… Don’t worry about it. It’s the same sort of crap we dreamed about as Orion. I’m used to it, you’re used to it…” He paused, assessing your feelings before amending, “Well, I’m used to it, at least.” You hummed and nuzzled your face into his shoulder.

“I miss this hoodie.” Sans laughed. You felt it rumbling in his chest.

“Pretty sure you’re getting that from me, not you.” You paused to think about it, and found that he was probably right. You only missed it because it was important to Sans and, therefore, important to you. Sleeping while soul-sharing always yielded interesting results.

“We should probably wake up… I think my alarm’s about to go off.” Your circadian rhythm was rarely ever wrong. Unlike Sans, who had no rhythm in any sense of the word.

“If you say so.” Even as he spoke, you started to feel the judgment hall falling away. Everything slowly turned fuzzy and indistinct until only Sans remained. You gradually emerged from sleep and found yourself in a familiar position; with your arms around Sans and your face buried in his shirt. You felt his chin digging into the top of your head and his arm draped over your shoulders, but, from another perspective, you also felt a warm body pressed up against your front and the tickle of short hair on your mandible. You both opened your eyes at the same time, then winced and quickly shut them again. Coordinating two bodies... feeling everything that both of them felt... was still a strange and, at times, nauseating experience.

You both decided arbitrarily to open the skeleton body’s eyes. Through Sans’ eye sockets, you saw your two souls hovering above your shared bed. They were pressed together, beating in sync. You reached a bony hand up, thinking hard about it so as to keep the human hand from following its lead. The skeletal fingers slipped between the souls, gently easing them apart-

You flinched and gasped as you suddenly found yourself snapping back into your own body. Your eyes flew open and, as usual, you felt dizzy. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably. You reached up and pulled your soul back into your chest.

“Good?” Sans asked, already sitting up and straightening his shirt, which had somehow ridden up to his chest in the middle of the night.

“In a minute.” You pressed your face into the pillow, willing the physical discomfort to go away. Sans never seemed to have this issue, but you always felt a little ill after separating your souls. Still, it was more than worth the temporary nausea.

“Alright, alright… If this is your way to get me to make you breakfast, you win.” Sans patted your butt affectionately, making you giggle before he got up from the bed. You listened to him moving around the room, but didn’t look up from the pillow until you heard him leave.

“Oh, by the way,” Sans surprised you by poking his head back through the doorway, “I ain’t gonna let anyone head back to camp without you. There’s no way in hell. So don’t worry about getting left behind, m’kay?” You blushed and smiled, feeling silly now that it was out in the open like that. You were going to be leaving camp today, and you supposed your unconscious mind had dreamt up the worst possible scenario; that the return helicopter would leave without you, and you’d be left on your own in the human world.

“Roger that.” As soon as the words left your mouth, your alarm started beeping obnoxiously. You jumped and scrambled to turn it off. By the time that fiasco was over, Sans had already left the room again.

After prying yourself from the warm bed, you took a shower, got dressed, and ate the breakfast Sans had made for you. The rest of the morning flew by and, before you knew it, you were standing around in the cold, feeling drowsy and wishing you were still asleep. You scuffed the toe of your boot on the ground, making yourself a little indent in the snow. You were only half-listening as Charlie addressed everyone who was gathered around on the road. He was explaining how things were going to go to the monsters, most of whom already knew after having heard it all from you. Only Mettaton was really in need of the crash course, and he was more concerned with making sure he had enough battery life in his humanoid body to last the day. You tuned in toward the end of Charlie’s speech as he struggled to figure out how all of you were going to fit on the helicopter.

“Okay, well… I guess we can go in two shifts.” He scratched his head. “We can split the guards up between the monsters. King Asgore should go in the first group…” You perked up, linking arms with Sans and shouting to be heard over the idling helicopter in the middle of the street,

“We’ll go with him!”

In the end, you, Sans, Asgore, Papyrus, Charlie, and Hernandez took the first flight, leaving Undyne, Alphys, and Mettaton to ride with Daujatas, Green, and Samuelsson. It was the same five guards who had accompanied the monsters the last time they took a trip to South Ebott, but the atmosphere between them seemed tenser this time around. You hadn’t noticed until you were about to leave, but they weren’t rowdy or talking amongst each other today. You didn’t have much time to contemplate it before you were ushered into the helicopter.

You ended up sandwiched between two skeletons, which was just fine by you. You wanted to be as close to the middle as you could get; far away from all of the windows and doors.

“Sibling! Please do not throw up, as you threatened to do last time!” You cringed at Papyrus’ loud comment. Luckily, Charlie and Hernandez had turned around to talk to the pilot. They seemed not to have heard.

“You must be thinking of someone else, Pap. I’ve never been on a helicopter before,” you spoke carefully, hoping Papyrus would get it. He gasped,

“Oh! You are correct, my mistake!” He winked, but you didn’t reply. You wanted the conversation to end before the officers turned back around.

The rest of the helicopter ride was uneventful, if you didn’t count the persistent fear of death for a solid 20 minutes. It didn’t help that the pilot had seemed worried before takeoff. Asgore was rather large, and he thought the King might exceed the helicopter’s weight limit. It had taken some coercing from Charlie and Hernandez to get him to fly you all down the mountain. 

You kept your eyes trained forward for the whole ride, staring at your cane, which rested securely between your knees, for the entire time. You had big headphones on to block out the deafening noise, so you couldn’t hear any reassurances that Sans might’ve offered you. He didn’t try to hold your hand or anything, either; probably because Charlie and Hernandez were right in front of you. You didn’t think the physical comfort would’ve done much good for your churning stomach, anyway.

Eventually… mercifully… you landed on solid ground. You required some help getting out of the helicopter; you’d been so tense during the ride that your muscles and joints were aching. Hernandez, who’d been the first to jump out, had been about to offer you his hand before Sans quickly lifted you with his magic and lowered you down, himself. You yelped in surprise as the magic engulfed you, setting you down on your feet gently. It was hard to get used to the feeling of floating weightlessly as someone else controlled your momentum. You glared back at Sans, who gave you a shit-eating grin from where he stood in the doorway of the chopper. Charlie, who’d watched the whole exchange, frowned. He looked deep in thought.

“What?” you asked once you noticed his staring. He shook his head.

“Just watch it… Remember, people here don’t know about this magic stuff. Don’t go doin’ it in front of them.” Sans joined you on the ground and gave Charlie a salute.

“Aye aye, officer.” Charlie furrowed his brow, still looking like something was on his mind.

“Uh huh.” As the last couple stragglers got out of the helicopter, you took a shaky step forward and took in your surroundings. This time, the chopper had taken you right to your destination; the high school parking lot. Even though it was the middle of the day, the place was empty. But, then again, it was a Saturday, so kids didn’t have school. The high school here was much smaller than the one you’d gone to, even though it was supposedly the only one in town. You looked over at Charlie skeptically. He’d said before that he hailed from South Ebott… Had he gone to this school? The small town life just didn’t seem to suit him.

When Charlie didn’t catch your side-eye, you gave up and looked away again. You stuffed your left hand in your pocket, wishing you’d brought a glove for your right. You let out a breath, which puffed up into a white cloud in the cold. The air smelled different here. Not bad, just not the same as in the mountains. It felt so surreal to be outside of camp. Being out here as Orion and being here in your own body was a night and day difference. Again, not a bad difference, but just different. Maybe part of it was the change in season, but you were pretty sure there was more to it.

“Feeling nostalgic?” Sans sidled up to you and nodded toward the school.

“For high school? Hell no,” you laughed. Public school had been torture for you… You’d never catch yourself reminiscing about it. For possibly the first time, Sans had incorrectly guessed what you’d been thinking. You tried not to read too much into it.

“Alright, folks… Let’s get going. Gotta clear the area so the bird can take off again,” Hernandez said as he waved his arms, shepherding your small group toward the school. Asgore walked up beside you.

“This is quite intriguing… To see what humans have done with thousands of years,” he murmured contemplatively. You had forgotten that this was Asgore’s first time leaving the camp, and that he was one of the few monsters who remembered humanity before the barrier had been created.

“Well, there’s a lot more to it than just this,” you said, feeling self-conscious about the small, almost rural school. Asgore chuckled. You looked up to see a glint in his eye.

“I believe you. I hope that, one day, my people will be able to see everything your people have done. That is, after all, why we are here today.” You nodded and looked forward resolutely.

“Right.”

As it turned out, the school was a little bit bigger than you’d initially thought. The helicopter had landed in the smaller, back parking lot, leaving the main lot free for the attending humans and spectators to roam.

“This way, we don’t have to walk past the crowd of people in the front,” Hernandez explained happily to anyone who was listening while Charlie went to open the back door. He was stopped short, however, when the door remained firmly shut. He tugged on it again, but to no avail.

“It’s locked,” you pointed out. Charlie glared at you.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” He cupped his hands to the tiny window to peer through it. “Damn, I told them to leave it unlocked… Don’t suppose any of you have any magical door unlocking powers, do you?” He looked at the three monsters hopefully.

“Pap and I could probably blow it off its hinges,” Sans suggested, and Papyrus’ face lit up at the prospect of being helpful.

“No!” Charlie said with a grimace, “Let’s just walk around the front, I guess. How bad can it be?”

The answer was… pretty bad. As soon as the six of you got around to the front of the building, your senses were bombarded by the sight and sound of what had to have been hundreds of humans. You were shocked that so many people even lived in South Ebott. The crowd was quartered off, confined to the front parking lot by waist-high fences. Armed police officers lining the fence had to keep people from bowling it over when they caught sight of your group rounding the corner.

You froze, suddenly engulfed in the blinding camera flashes and indistinct, excited shouts. You and the monsters instinctively huddled closer together. You felt Papyrus’ bones rattling when his arm pressed up against yours. Asgore seemed to gather himself first and, with a determined look, urged the rest of your group to follow Charlie.

You shuffled forward, hyper aware of every movement you made. You watched, wide-eyed, as an officer stopped a man from climbing the fence. The human looked red-faced and angry, though you couldn’t hear what he was shouting over all of the other voices. A few reporters pressed to the front of the crowd, desperately holding out microphones as they tried to ask you questions over the bedlam.

It felt like years before you finally made it to the front door. Charlie held it open as the rest of you hurried inside. The click of the door shutting echoed down the hallway, instantly muffling all of the outside voices to a dull murmur. Your group let out a collective sigh of relief, including your human guards.

“Sorry about that, guys… It’ll be better in here. We’re not gonna go past those protesters again.” You nodded at Charlie’s reassurances, staring at your feet. Seeing all of those people, hearing them yelling at you… You’d completely lost your nerve. How were you going to face anyone now? You were just glad you hadn’t been able to hear what any of those humans were saying. Oh, God… What if your parents had been in the crowd? You hadn’t seen them, but you had kept your head down most of the time. Was that a blessing, or should you have been looking? You glanced nervously over your shoulder at the door.

“Hey,” Sans muttered, bumping his shoulder into yours. Everyone else had started walking down the empty hallway, but the two of you hung back. “Don’t worry about it. It’s behind us.” You pursed your lips and nodded. Sans was right.

“C’mon, we better catch up.” You grabbed his wrist and tugged him forward, your cane tapping quickly on the linoleum floor while you hurried to catch up with everyone else. You reached the rest of the group right as they walked up to a big set of double doors.

“Alright, everyone know the game plan?” Charlie asked, to which you all nodded. You and Sans were a little out of breath from speed-walking. “Good. And…” The officer looked around before lowering his voice, “Whatever you do, don’t do any of that freaky magic shit, okay? If anyone’s giving you trouble, you holler for one of us.” Papyrus nodded again eagerly, but you caught Sans and Asgore glancing at each other. Even as they agreed, you knew that the two of them would not hesitate to use magic if it ended up being needed. You just hoped it wouldn’t come to that. You’d gotten away with it once, and you didn’t think you’d be so lucky again.

“Okay, then… Let’s go,” Charlie said with a crooked grin before throwing the double doors open with more gusto than was strictly necessary.

A crowd of faces turned to look as your mismatched crew of humans and monsters shuffled inside. A few quiet whispers and flashing cameras met you but, compared to the masses of people outside, this didn’t feel nearly as overwhelming. You’d probably given school presentations to groups larger than this. But, still, you felt uncomfortable with the whole situation. Luckily, the attention seemed to be mostly focused on the monsters in your group, not on the odd human among them.

“Hello, everyone,” Asgore said, his deep voice echoing through the gym with ease. He scanned the crowd with a smile. “We are still waiting for a few people to arrive, so do not stop your conversations on our account.” With the King’s permission, the dull whispering grew into hushed speaking. Some people looked away out of courtesy, but many just kept staring.

“Well, this is cozy,” Sans commented, and you snorted. Papyrus must’ve heard and gave him a cross look.

“Do not be discouraged, brother! All we need to do is approach the humans with friendly conversation, like what I did with those master chefs at the restaurant!” He puffed up his chest proudly. You did distinctly remember Papyrus running into the kitchen at Luini’s and scaring the cooks half to death. If that was how he planned to make friends…

“Here, just follow my lead!” With that, the tall skeleton bounded off into the crowd. The humans who saw him and had heard what he’d said fell back, while a few unsuspecting people were still unaware of his approach. He headed toward a group of middle-aged men with their backs to him.

“Pap, wait up-” Sans followed behind him worriedly, and you were about to do the same when you heard a voice yell your name from across the gym.

You turned, startled, and saw a girl around your age frantically waving her arms in your direction. She was short, so you only got a brief glance at her face through the crowd, but that was enough for you to recognize who it was.

“Remi?!” You furrowed your brow and looked around. You couldn’t see Sans anymore, but you assumed he was with Papyrus, who towered over all of the humans. He made wild, excited gestures at the cluster of humans who had gathered around him. People were smiling and laughing, so you assumed everything was going alright. Meanwhile, Asgore was speaking to the few local reporters who had been allowed into the gathering. Charlie stood by the door, and Hernandez was nowhere to be seen.

You figured you weren’t needed anywhere, so you pushed through the mass of people, looking for Remi. You’d lost sight of her… But she hadn’t been _that_ far away. The gym was pretty small, surely you could find her…

Once you reached the folded-up bleachers at the edge of the gym, a pair of arms wrapped around you from behind. You twisted around, ready to bash whoever it was over the head with your cane, but stopped yourself when you saw who it was.

“Oh my god!!! I can’t believe you’re here!!!” Remi exclaimed as she squeezed the life out of you. You laughed and threw your arms around her in return.

“Long time no see, huh?” You pulled back to get a good look at her. She didn’t look any different from the last time you’d seen her; which was when you and a bunch of friends had gone camping on Mount Ebott. Meeting her here, after eight months… It felt surreal.

“Dude! I barely recognized you… That hair!” She rubbed the top of your fuzzy head, and you swatted her hand away with a grin. 

“Is anyone else here?” You looked around, both worried and excited by the possibility of reuniting with more of your old friends. You were in a pretty sparse area of the gym; most of the guests were crowded around Asgore or Papyrus. But you still received some weird looks from strangers who hung around on the outskirts of the activity.

“No… Ander wanted to come, but they couldn’t get a ticket. And Cody was gonna come with me, but he didn’t pass the background checks…” Remi couldn’t meet your eyes, which made you frown.

“What do you mean?” Logically, you knew what that meant. You’d been the one to create the background checks, after all. If he couldn’t pass them, then that meant…

“Well, I mean… Cody _may_ have gone to an anti-monster rally _one_ time, and none of our other friends live in South Ebott, so-”

“Wait, he did? Why?” Remi scuffed her foot on the worn, gym floor before answering,

“Well, y’know… You kinda disappeared on us. All of us who were there…” She looked around as though making sure no one was listening. “We all felt pretty responsible. And then, when the monsters showed up, it was like we could finally stop blaming ourselves. I mean, it’s pretty easy to blame them instead. But then you came back… And, if you say it’s not their fault, then ‘course I believe you.” Remi flashed you a tentative smile. “But… Not everyone’s ready to do that.”

You crossed your arms and stared at the floor. You’d been so busy thinking about yourself and your parents that you hadn’t even considered what your friends would think of all of this. There were so many more people affected by this than you’d realized...

You and Remi had been friends since high school. She was one of the few people who’d known you before you’d played Undertale, and thus one of the few who you hadn’t managed to drive away when you were soulless. You were on bad terms with all of your other high school friends, though there weren’t very many to begin with. But Remi had stuck with you, even when you’d been… Well. Kind of a jerk.

“Sorry, Remi.” You looked up from your feet, and she waved you off.

“Aw, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault you got lost in a cave full of monsters. That must’ve sucked.” You laughed, leaning on your cane as you doubled over.

“Man, you have no idea,” you paused, then added, “Thanks for coming to see me…” Remi scoffed, then threw her arm around your shoulders.

“I didn’t come to see _you_ , nerd. I came to see the monsters!” She gestured to Asgore, still standing near the doorway, now accompanied by Undyne, Alphys, and Mettaton. You stuck your tongue out at your friend, but were distracted from answering when Sans suddenly appeared at your other side.

“There you are, I was looking for-” Sans cut himself short when he noticed your friend. He looked from her to you, his eyes wide with surprise. “Hey, is that-”

“Remi!” you interrupted him before he could give himself away. It’d be pretty hard to explain how a monster knew your best friend by sight when they’d never met. “She’s one of my friends from school. Remi, this is Sans.” You pulled back from your friend and watched her expression carefully. Sans stuck out his hand, and Remi looked him up and down before tentatively taking it. You tried not to judge her too harshly for her hesitancy; you remembered you’d been startled the first time you saw Sans, too. In fact, you distinctly recalled attacking him with your cane. So at least her reaction was better than yours.

“Nice to-” Remi started, but was cut off by a loud, flatulent noise. She recoiled, and Sans held up his whoopee-cushioned hand with a wink. You snorted and ducked your head, trying and failing to hide your laughter.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Sans said, and Remi finally got over her shock enough to laugh. Thankfully, you knew she loved stupid jokes. With that in mind, you figured she and Sans would get along just fine.

“Oh my god, I need one of those!” She grabbed Sans’ wrist and examined the whoopee-cushion. “That’s hilarious… So much better than those shock button things.”

“Ironically, I think the old whoopee-cushion-in-the-hand trick is more _shocking_.” Remi giggled again and let go of his arm. Before Sans could make any more puns, you caught sight of Asgore slowly making his way over to you through the crowd. You poked Sans, who turned around to look.

“Hello… Are you all enjoying yourselves?” The King looked between you, Sans, and Remi, who looked to be in awe. Being even shorter than you, she had to strain her neck in order to look up at him. You smiled, having forgotten how impressive Asgore appeared on first sight. In reality, the guy was a big softie. 

“Yeah… This is Remi, one of my friends.” The King smiled warmly at her.

“Well, any friend of yours is a friend of mine, of course.” Asgore held out his hand. Remi tilted her head as though to check for more hidden whoopee-cushions before shaking it. “Thank you for coming to this event, Remi.” There was a pause as Remi seemed too shocked to answer.

“O-oh, uh, you’re welcome!” she squeaked, and you snickered. It felt odd, having your human friend meet your monster friends. But, in a way, you were strangely proud. Sure, it turned out that most of your human friends hated monsters, but _this_ one didn’t, so at least that was something.

“Now that everyone is here, I believe I will be making my statement shortly,” Asgore said as he turned to you and Sans, “I would like you two to be up there with me, if that is alright.”

“Sure!” you said, a spike of nervous energy fluttering in your stomach. You hoped Asgore didn’t expect you to say anything… You didn’t have anything prepared. Before you could worry about it too much, Remi wrapped her arms around you again.

“I’m glad we got to meet up… Don’t be a stranger, okay? There’s so much else I wanted to tell you…” You patted her back, and she squeezed you tighter. Honestly, you didn’t know when you’d be able to get in touch with Remi or any of your old friends again. You had no way of contacting them from camp, and you couldn’t leave unless there was another event like this. But, instead of being truthful, you agreed,

“Yeah, totally.” After hearing your confirmation, Remi pulled back and clapped you on the shoulder.

“Alright, go do your ambassador stuff, then. It was nice to meet you, Sans and King Asgore.” She nodded to the monsters respectfully, looking proud of herself that she’d managed to form words in front of them. You had to fight back a laugh as you all said your goodbyes and ventured back into the crowd. You looked back over your shoulder as you walked away, but Remi was quickly swallowed by the mass of people trying to get a look at you and your monster companions. Briefly, you wondered when, or even if, you would ever see her again. Or any of your other friends, for that matter. It was discomforting to think of how much everything had changed in such a short time.

With Asgore parting the crowd for you and Sans, the three of you made it to the front of the gym in good time. There was a big podium, which was obviously chosen because of the King’s size. Even so, he dwarfed the thing when he stood up to it. His presence at the front of the gym caused a hush to fall over the human crowd. From where you stood, you could see that the monsters had really started intermingling with the humans. Papyrus and Mettaton were on opposite ends of the gym, surrounded by people and reporters. Alphys was probably somewhere in the back, where there was a small cluster of humans gathered around. Undyne was making her way from there to where you, Sans, and Asgore were standing. 

“Hey, punk.” She jabbed you in the shoulder before making her way around Asgore to stand at his right. As soon as everyone was in place and the room was quiet, Asgore cleared his throat.

“Hello, everyone,” he began, while you stood quietly with your hands clasped in front of you. You stared straight ahead, trying not to glance nervously at all of the cameras and phones being pointed at you. “Thank you all for inviting us into your town. This is the first official gathering of humans and monsters, and you cannot imagine how happy I am to see everyone getting along so well.” You glanced to your right to see Asgore beaming. He was always so genuine, and you could see most of the humans in the crowd smiling with him like it was infectious. “I have high hopes for the continued friendship between our species.

“Your kind have forgotten over the millennia which have passed, but there was a time when humans and monsters lived together in peace. I remember humanity as being a resourceful, stubborn group, and I see that little has changed.” There were some chuckles in the crowd, as well as some uneasy looks as people tried to figure out if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Asgore didn’t clarify. “I think we all have something to offer each other, be it knowledge, resources, or friendship.

“I firmly believe that everyone is good at their core, including the people outside who call for our slaughter.” Discomfort rippled through the largely pro-monster crowd, but Asgore continued on as though he didn’t notice it, “I ask that you show patience and kindness to your fellows, whom you may disagree with. To those who are in agreement with the mobs at our gates, I ask that you extend those same feelings to my people as we struggle to make a home on the surface. If we all make an effort to understand each other, I believe we can return to an age of peace and harmony,” Asgore paused, his smile warm and full of optimism. He nodded, as though reaffirming what he had just said. “Thank you for your time. I would now be happy to answer any questions you may have.”

Once he opened the floor to questions, dozens of hands shot into the air. Voices rose up, then quieted down when Asgore pointed at a man with his hand up near the front.

“All due respect, sir, but I do not believe you have addressed the issue that is on the minds of most anti-monster protesters. Two humans now have emerged from your underground home…” You felt all eyes turn to you, and you tried not to fidget under the unwanted attention. “...And neither of them have been forthcoming about what happens down there. Can you really say, with certainty, that none of the people who have gone missing around these mountains are still trapped down there? And, if these cases are monster-related kidnappings, what could’ve happened to them?”

There were murmurs of agreement in the crowd. People’s eyes shifted between you and Asgore, and you wondered if you should say something. The guy was right; you hadn’t talked publically about what happened underground. And how could you? Anything you said had to be a lie, since there was no way to explain what had happened without sounding like you were delusional. Your mind was suddenly blank, so you looked to Asgore helplessly. Thankfully, he saved you from having to say anything.

“Well, I can assure you that there was never any kidnapping involved. There is simply no way any monster could have ever forced someone to fall into the Underground. In both cases you bring up, this was merely an unfortunate accident.” You cast your eyes downward, knowing that Asgore was lying, too. You couldn’t speak for Frisk, but you knew your fall wasn’t an accident. But Chara pushing you hardly counted as kidnapping, either, so you kept your mouth shut. “As for whether there are any other humans among us… I can say with the utmost confidence that there are none.” There was some whispering among the crowd before someone near the back shouted to be heard,

“How do you know for sure?” Someone else piped up,

“Yeah, and how do we know you’re telling the truth?” 

Asgore frowned. He was silent for a long moment before speaking slowly,

“Well… There has been some talk of allowing a group of humans to come and see the Underground. Perhaps we could turn it into a sort of search party… Then, you may see for yourselves that there are no humans being held captive.” A fevered excitement washed over the gym. You’d assumed that people would be curious about the Underground, but you hadn’t figured that they’d be _this_ eager to see it. The humans whispered back and forth to each other, and you overheard a couple of the people near the front saying that they wanted to go.

“I’d give my right arm to see that.”

“Can you imagine? I wonder what it’s like!” 

You looked up at Asgore with a wary expression. It had been your own idea to let humans into the Underground, but you were beginning to wonder if that had been the right call. If they were just going to treat the monsters like fascinating animals in a zoo…

Asgore caught your look and gave you a reassuring smile in return. It was all he offered before addressing the crowd again, 

“If there are no other questions…” Hands shot up, even more than the first time. The King paused, then amended, “I will not be taking questions about the Underground trip at this time. As of right now, nothing is set in stone, and I have no answers for you.” Several hands went back down. The King gestured toward a young woman near the wall. You couldn’t see her face from where you stood, so you didn’t realize that it was Remi until you heard her voice.

“This town meeting thing is all well and good, but when are monsters going to be allowed to live in town with everyone else? It must be depressing, being stuck in a little camp on the mountain.” _That_ garnered mixed reactions from the other humans. Even though the room was almost exclusively full of monster supporters, many of them looked unhappy… or at least, uneasy… about the prospect of monsters living among them. You heard one person in the back let out a ‘Whoop!’ in agreement, but they were in the minority. As usual, Asgore considered the question with scrutiny before answering,

“You are correct, our current situation is not ideal. But, as I said earlier, we must have patience. Whatever the future may hold, I am confident that it will be to the liking of both humans and monsters.”

You thought he’d dodged the question fairly well, but his answer didn’t seem to the liking of the crowd. When Asgore asked for more questions, no one raised their hands. Either they’d all had the same question as Remi or, more likely, they lost their nerves. People looked around the room, as though wishing someone else would ask a question but not wanting to do it themselves. Asgore waited patiently, but no one seemed willing to speak up.

“Well, thank you for your time and your questions. I hope this is merely the first of many meetings to come, but until then… Have a wonderful afternoon.” Asgore nodded respectfully toward everyone before stepping off of the podium. A few, unsure claps echoed in the room until everyone caught on and gave the King a round of applause. You followed Asgore hurriedly as he made his way to the side of the gym.

“That was weird… I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, I just-”

“It went as well as can be expected, I believe,” he interrupted you, then glanced back at you over his shoulder. “Do not worry, I did not expect you to say anything. You did just fine.”

You were distracted from answering Asgore by Sans, who nudged your shoulder with his own. You’d honestly forgotten he was even there; he’d been so silent as he stood by your side. You looked over at him, then followed his subtle gesture with your eyes. You quickly found what he was trying to alert you to; a well-dressed woman with a microphone walking toward your group briskly, while a man with a large camera followed behind her.

You stopped walking and waited for her to catch up. This was obviously not what Sans had in mind, judging by his groan of frustration. Dutifully, he stopped with you, even though he was clearly unhappy about it.

“Oh, hello!” The reporter seemed surprised that you’d stopped, too. She took a second to catch her breath, then introduced herself, “My name is Diana Newton from Channel 11 News. Do you have a moment to talk?” You looked back at Asgore and Undyne, who seemed to have gotten cornered by a couple other reporters of their own. You figured there was no rush, then… Plus, you still felt bad about not saying anything during the Q&A. You felt obligated to say something to someone.

“Yeah, sure.” Diana smiled widely and straightened her blazer.

“Excellent! So, you’ve been stuck on Mount Ebott for a long time… How does it feel to get back to civilization?” You glanced over at Sans, who was standing quite a ways away from you. You figured he just didn’t want to be on TV, but still… You wished he would’ve stayed by your side. His hands were in his pockets and his eyes were dark, as though he was seeing a danger that was invisible to you. But he didn’t try to signal you, or anything, so you didn’t know what to make of it. You tore your attention away from him to answer the question,

“Um… It’s alright. I’ve been to South Ebott before, and it’s a nice town,” you ended lamely, unsure what else to say. Diana kept going, undeterred,

“I’m sure you know that people have been clamoring to hear your side of the story. What _really_ happened to you in the Underground?” You nodded a little, unsurprised. You’d expected this question, and were now more prepared to answer it.

“I already told the FBI everything that happened,” you spoke slowly and with as much confidence as you could manage to project, “I was hiking with my friends and decided to head back to our campsite early because I was tired. On my way, I tripped and fell into a hole, which led to the Underground. I got lost down there until a monster found me and helped me get back to the surface.” You purposefully omitted Sans’ name from the story, figuring by his distrustful expression that he didn’t want to get dragged into this. “It’s really not that complicated,” you finished. Diana nodded.

“I see… But how did you survive? You were trapped underground for months… That must’ve been so hard on you.”

“O-oh, um…” you stuttered. You’d been expecting to have to defend yourself against accusations, not sympathy. Your fingers clenched and unclenched around the handle of your cane. You’d always been uncomfortable with people feeling sorry for you, and you were beginning to realize that it was even worse when you were lying about your troubles. “I-it wasn’t that terrible… It was kind of like camping…” You didn’t know whether to laugh or cringe at yourself and how very much _not_ like camping it had been. You ended up chuckling nervously, which only made the reporter’s expression look even more sympathetic. She probably thought you’d gone crazy down there... Which, now that you thought about it, was actually not a wholly inaccurate assessment.

“So, you say the monsters saved you… Would you consider them your friends?” Thank God, an easy question. You smiled and answered truthfully for the first time,

“Yes, absolutely. And if people actually got to know them, I think they’d consider them friends, too.” 

“You consider them such good friends that you would give up your life to be their ambassador?” Diana asked, skeptical, but eager. She held the microphone a little too close to your face. Looking back, you realized that all of the previous questions had been leading up to this.

You hadn’t expected anyone to care why you, personally, had decided to stay with the monsters. In reality, there were so many reasons; guilt for what you’d done to them, commitment to Sans, and, yes, friendship. But there was something else, too, that you thought you could safely tell the world.

“Yes. Not only that, but I feel like it’s my duty to help. When I got to the surface, when I saw that they were being confined to what was basically an internment camp… It was such a great injustice. I thought, if I could do something to help, then I should. So, yeah, I gave up my life to do this, and I’d make the same decision again if I could.” You couldn’t help but to look over at Sans as you finished, and were disappointed to see that his blank expression hadn’t changed. Every now and then, his eyes would dart around, as though looking for some means of escape. You didn’t understand why until Diana turned her attention to him.

“That sounds like a noble cause… And is this one of your friends? What do _you_ think about the current state of monster-human relations?” You gritted your teeth, wishing she had just stuck to questioning you. Sans shot you an unreadable look, then forced a smile and shook his head good-naturedly.

“I’ve got nothin’ to say, lady.” You side-stepped in front of Sans, feeling like you needed to protect him from the giant camera and microphone in his face.

“We should probably go,” you said quickly, reaching for Sans’ hand before remembering yourself and grabbing his upper arm instead. “Got a helicopter to catch, and all.”

“Oh, well, thank you for your time.” You nodded, barely staying to hear Diana’s parting words before nudging Sans in the direction of the exit. He didn’t need to be told twice; he ended up leading you toward the door rather than the other way around.

Once you caught up with the other monsters, you found that they were all already gathered together, with Asgore saying some parting words to the other reporters and guests. Some of the humans had already started to leave, which left the gym feeling much more spacious than before. Papyrus bid everyone farewell as they left, while Mettaton, Undyne, and Alphys carried on a conversation with a small group of stragglers. Sans led you to stand against the wall beside the door, where you could see everyone but no one could approach you from behind. Once you were out of earshot, Sans spoke,

“Don’t make me do that again.” His sharp tone surprised you. You let go of his arm and put your hand on your hip.

“I’m sorry you had to talk to someone, but I couldn’t really do anything about it,” you retorted just as sharply, feeling defensive and a little hurt. It was one reporter who he didn’t even really have to say anything to. You didn’t get what the big deal was.

“Not just that, this whole thing. You disappearing on me, then having to stand up there, then the questions…” His eyes darted around again. “I don’t like any of this ambassador stuff… I didn’t want anything to do with it-”

“Well, it’s what _I’m_ doing. You don’t have to follow me around if you don’t like it,” you snapped, then added more calmly, “We can do our own thing every now and then… You don’t have to come to these meetings. I won’t feel bad if you stay home.” Sans clenched and unclenched his jaw, unable to meet your eyes. He looked conflicted, and you wished you could read his thoughts. You supposed you just had to be patient; you’d find out more about what he was thinking later tonight.

“Let’s talk about this later,” he mumbled, staring at something over your shoulder. You followed his gaze and saw that Charlie and Daujatas ushering the reporters away from the King. Asgore saw you and Sans looking in his direction and motioned for you to follow him. You looked back at Sans sadly.

“Alright. Later, then.” You so badly wanted to give him a kiss, but you figured you’d have to save that for later, too. Without further ado, you and Sans followed Asgore out the gym door. As you walked down the hallway, Papyrus bounded up to you.

“Hello, siblings! Did you have fun at the meeting?” He didn’t give you time to answer before declaring, “I had a tremendous amount of fun! Humans are wonderful! Some of them are quite shy, but I think I made great progress toward getting them out of their shells!” Papyrus went on to describe each and every human he met in excruciating detail. Sans seemed to be at least half-listening, but you couldn’t help but to tune him out completely. In front of you, Undyne and Alphys held hands and talked excitedly about some new show that one of the humans had told them about. Mettaton was behind you, talking the ears off of Hernandez, who seemed to be genuinely interested in hearing about the robot’s acting career. Meanwhile, Asgore led the way up front, speaking in a hushed voice to Charlie. Samuelsson, who had been oddly quiet and innocuous during the whole event, looked like he was eavesdropping.

“How’s it goin’?” You jumped at the sound of Green’s deep voice right next to you. He was the kind of guy who was _always_ quiet and innocuous, so you weren’t all that surprised that he’d managed to unintentionally sneak up on you. 

“It’s fine…” you said, distracted by your own thoughts. There was silence for a moment before Green commented, 

“I heard you talking to that reporter.” When he added nothing, you asked,

“So how’d I do?” You were too downtrodden by your pseudo-argument with Sans to really care what Green thought of what you’d said. But, still, you surprised yourself by smiling when he gave you a silent thumbs-up. “At least someone thinks so…” you muttered, too quiet for Sans to overhear.

“Eh, you’ll do fine. Don’t worry about it.” Green patted you on the back. You laughed… Both at the situation in general, and at yourself. The armed officer who was awkwardly trying to comfort you was right; you were doing well at your new job, and would continue to do well. You didn’t need Sans’ constant praise to know that.

“Thanks. I’ll try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whenever I write a long chapter like this, I never like how it turns out. I'll probably feel more positive about it when I inevitably have to reread it later on down the line XD
> 
> I actually have a good reason for this taking such a long time... I've been working on a secret santa gift for someone on the Undertale Dating Sim team. I'll be uploading it to AO3 on the 1st, so look out for that! If you like the Sans perspective chapters in this fic, you might like this secret santa one-shot.


	12. Missing Pages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I wanted to take a quick moment to say that the Undertale Dating Sim is accepting applications for new writers and editors! I don't usually talk about the sim much here, but I thought it would be a nice opportunity if any of you are interested. I'm one of the leaders of the writing team, so you'd be working closely with me.
> 
> If you decide to apply, please be sure to follow the instructions on the application carefully! We will not consider any applications that don't follow the instructions. Also, if you get accepted, we'll be contacting you on skype. So make sure you check your skype often :)
> 
> [Writing Application](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSeKRJ_mtdNYvE_QAy_W7TRbLJFKOyqvc54AsJzA2vfTSYay7g/viewform?c=0&w=1)
> 
> [Editing Application](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSeSJycOrHkcHtg7z1gAqach-jbd9trwrXFnkeFnUpy1C2bpVA/viewform?c=0&w=1)
> 
> Feel free to visit [the blog](http://undertale-dating-simulator.tumblr.com/) for more information.

You and Sans never did talk about it later. After sharing souls that night, there was nothing _to_ talk about. Sans saw how strongly you felt about your new job, and you saw how conflicted he felt about it, too. On one hand, he was happy that you were doing something you cared about. But on the other, he didn’t like that it often took you away from him. You had to go to meetings which Sans couldn’t be a part of, and now there was the possibility that you might have to travel outside of camp. If Sans had hated the town meeting, then he’d probably hate whatever else you had to do in the future. So he was faced with the choice of either going with you and doing something he loathed, or staying in camp and anxiously awaiting your return. You couldn’t see a solution to this fundamental difference between the two of you; you certainly weren’t going to give up your job, and Sans wasn’t going to suddenly start wanting to do ambassador work with you. You’d both just have to get used to being separated every now and then.

In the meantime, things were actually beginning to settle down. Between the Christmas celebration and the town meeting, you hadn’t had a chance to breathe for a while. For now, though, all you and Asgore had to do was sit back and let people decide what they thought about the meeting. 

It was frustrating to not have television or the internet, since it meant that all of your news from the humans had to be heard second-hand. On top of that, Reives and Wolfe were oddly cryptic about the news they gave you. You had to ask probing questions in order to get anything out of them. It was like they wanted to keep you in the dark… But at least Charlie didn’t seem to have any qualms about keeping you updated. He came down from his tower once a few days after the meeting just to show you and Asgore the many news segments that had covered the event.

“How did you get all of these?” you asked while the King squinted to watch a clip on Charlie’s phone. The officer silently took the phone and turned it sideways, making the video much larger for Asgore. “I mean, we don’t have service up here…”

“Well, I do go home sometimes, y’know,” he said, smirking, “I don’t sleep up in the Northwest tower.”

“How _do_ you get home and back?” you asked, mostly just stalling so that you didn’t have to watch yourself on TV. Asgore was chuckling about something, and you didn’t want to know what.

“Helicopter. You ever see it land a little South of camp? That’s the guards, rotating shifts. Hey, watch this one…” 

You reluctantly turned your attention to the phone. After you got over how cringey you thought you looked, you had to admit that most of the coverage seemed pretty positive. The major, national news stations that you recognized appeared unbiased, and the local South Ebott station even had a segment on the similarities and differences between the current monster camp and internment camps of the past. All of it was based on your off-the-cuff comparison. It felt weird, but satisfying, to have people analyzing your words so closely.

One news clip that Charlie had on his phone bothered you, though. It wasn’t anything bad against monsters, necessarily… It was just a list of all of the missing persons reports that had been filed in the Mount Ebott area. Of course, you and Frisk had been taken off of it, but something about it still struck you as odd… You just couldn’t put your finger on what.

After nearly a week of this simmering in the back of your mind, you found yourself staring at the missing persons poster on your front door one morning. It was still nailed there from back when your parents had first given it to you. Or, rather, to Orion. It had become such a permanent fixture on your house that you never even noticed it anymore; your eyes usually just skipped right by it.

Now, though, you stood with your back leaning on the door frame, letting cold air into the house as you left the door wide open. You had your arms crossed, frowning. Eventually, Sans begrudgingly emerged from the bedroom to see what was going on.

“Any particular reason you’ve got the door open? You tryin’ to freeze me awake, or somethin’?” You pursed your lips, knowing full well that the cold didn’t affect Sans, anyway, so you were under no obligation to feel bad. You gestured to the poster.

“See anything wrong with this?” With a small sigh, Sans came to stand next to you, close enough that his arm pressed against yours. It didn’t take him long to figure it out.

“There’s not enough people on there,” he said casually, as though commenting on the weather, “More people’ve gone missing since this poster was made. S’that what’s been bothering you?” He looked up at you, and you nodded slowly.

“Yeah… I mean, _we_ know it’s not the monsters, but I can see how the humans would think that.” As you often found yourself doing, you spoke as if you and Sans were not human and monster. Like you were both something else, entirely. “It’s weird that so many people would go missing around here.” There was a moment of silence. You continued to stare at the faces on the poster, shivering in the cold, January air.

“C’mon, let’s get this door closed,” Sans suggested, and you knew that he had no answer for you. Reluctantly, you did as he said and shut the door. The two of you walked silently to the kitchen together, Sans sitting at the table while you started making coffee and toast. Once you both had breakfast in front of you, Sans spoke again,

“Well, I hate to suggest doin’ any actual work...” You snorted, to which Sans smiled, “...But maybe we could put the poster somewhere more visible. Make, like, an announcement board, or somethin’.” You chewed your toast thoughtfully.

“Yeah… That’s a good idea.” You didn’t really know why you liked the suggestion so much, seeing how you knew it wouldn’t do any actual good. Even if you made the poster more visible to other monsters visiting the surface, (Which, occasionally, you saw them doing. Every now and then, a group of monsters would come up, take a walk outside, maybe take a look at some of the empty houses. It was encouraging to see more of them being unafraid of the surface.) you knew none of them would find any of the missing humans. The ones that had fallen underground were long dead, and the rest… You had no idea. But, still, the thought of displaying the poster to everyone made you feel a little better about it. Like you were showing your support. Doing something, at least.

With your mind made up, you shoved the rest of the toast into your mouth and stood. You got up a little fast, though, and you hissed at the twinge of pain in your hips. You leaned against the back of the chair you’d been sitting in, and Sans frowned.

“When’s the last time you saw Pap?” You had to think for a moment before realizing he was right.

“Like, three days ago… I guess we should go visit him first, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Sans agreed, his voice strained. He always hated being reminded of your… problem. It seemed to bother him even more than it did you. You were more used to relying on other people for your health. Granted, not to this extent, but still. You figured you were in a better position than most people to cope with this.

Not that you relished living in a body that was technically still dead. Every now and then, you’d notice some new and disturbing consequence that you hadn’t foreseen. Like getting a papercut and noticing that it didn’t heal for days... Not until Papyrus took care of it for you. You tried not to think about what would happen if you sustained a more serious injury. If you cut yourself, would you bleed until you were dry, your wound unable to close on its own? No, no… Best not to think about it. There was nothing you could do to prepare for something like that, anyway.

Instead, you and Sans headed over to Papyrus’ house as soon as you’d cleared your plates. You barely even knocked once before the skeleton had thrown open the door and invited you inside. You didn’t even have to tell him why you were there; he seemed to have been expecting you. As soon as you walked in, he told you to sit in a bright, cheerful voice.

“You aren’t working today, Pap?” you asked as you limped over to the couch, noticing a suspicious lack of Undyne’s loud presence. When both of them worked, they usually left together.

“I only work in the afternoon on Fridays, remember?!” he said as he sat down next to you. He turned to face you, his legs crossed.

“Oh, my bad,” you said, though you didn’t really feel bad about forgetting. Pap changed his schedule so often, there was no way you or Sans could be expected to keep up with it.

“I swear, you are both so forgetful!” he announced with his eyes narrowed, but you could sense a hint of fondness in his tone. You glanced at Sans, who stood with his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall. Was that true? You never used to be forgetful. Were you really taking on Sans’ traits, or was Papyrus just painting the two of you with broad strokes? It was hard to tell sometimes.

The three of you lapsed into silence when Papyrus began to heal you. As usual, you were filled with a comforting warmth as his unique magic seemed to seep into your bones. You sighed, your eyes closed. Papyrus huffed in mock annoyance as you leaned back against his chest. You couldn’t help that you often nearly fell asleep while being healed; it was always somehow an unexpected, but welcome relief. When he was done, Pap put his hands on your shoulders and pried you away from him, forcing you to sit up straight. You did so with an unhappy grunt, turning around so that you were no longer sideways on the couch. You stretched your legs out in front of you, pleased that they didn’t feel sore and achy anymore.

“Thanks again, Pap,” you recited earnestly. Papyrus waved you off and stuck his chest out with pride.

“Of course, sibling! The Great Papyrus is happy to lend his superior healing skills, as always!” You snickered, getting a kick out of it whenever the tall skeleton referred to himself in the third person. 

“Hey, Sans and I were gonna work on a little project today… Do you think you could help us?” you suggested, glancing at Sans for approval. His smile grew, as you thought it might. Sans didn’t hang out with his brother as much as you’d thought he would once you were in separate bodies. You knew why he felt nervous about the prospect, but that didn’t change the fact that he should spend time with Papyrus, anyway. This billboard thing would be a good opportunity for that.

“YES! I mean, I am sure my many, varied talents can be of use! What kind of project are you working on???” 

You went on to explain Sans’ idea of the news bulletin. You didn’t mention specifically what you wanted to put on it; you figured it could be used for any kind of announcement, as long as no one covered up the poster you wanted to tack up there. You and Papyrus spent longer than you’d be comfortable admitting discussing where it should go and what materials it should be made out of. You found yourself feeding off of his excitement, and were reminded of the weeks when you’d lived in his house and spent the days creating and solving puzzles with him. Sans wasn’t the only one who wasn’t spending enough time with Papyrus, these days.

Speaking of Sans, the skeleton in question didn’t contribute much to the conversation. He mostly just leaned against the wall, grinning as he watched you and Papyrus debate the merits of putting the bulletin board right at the exit of the Underground versus a little ways down the road. Whenever either of you asked his opinion on something, he’d deflect the question with a pun, betraying just how indifferent he actually was to any of this. 

“Sans, why don’t you and Papyrus go and get the wood we’ll need? I don’t wanna walk that far.” Really, you just didn’t want to go to the Underground because you’d stick out like a sore thumb as the only human down there. But you weren’t above using your disability as an excuse, in this case. Plus, it would be a way to get Sans and Papyrus to hang out alone, something you’d decided was needed right about now.

“Sure,” he said with a shrug that failed to hide how tense he was, “C’mon, bro. I know a shortcut. Well, a coupla shortcuts…”

Papyrus’ eyes lit up as he bounded after Sans out the door. You heard him jabbering about where would be the best place to get the lumber before the door shut between you.

You hummed, unsure what to do while you waited for the brothers to return. You tapped your fingers on the arm of the couch before standing up, using your cane for support. You figured you could at least go back to your house and take the poster off of your door.

As you stepped back out into the cold, you realized that you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been alone like this. The closest you ever got was when you had to go to the bathroom. Otherwise, Sans was always there. And when Sans wasn’t there, then it was because you were in a meeting where he couldn’t follow you. You wondered if that was why he’d been so tense at the idea of going to the Underground without you; because the two of you had never willingly separated before this. It wasn’t something you’d even considered a few moments ago, but wasn’t that a good thing? It was probably unhealthy for you and Sans to be glued to each other’s sides 24/7. The fact that you were starting to feel more comfortable with him not being there all of the time was a good step forward.

What bothered you was that Sans didn’t feel the same way. He still felt unduly nervous whenever you left for a meeting, and would fret about it by pacing the length of the living room until you got back. You were surprised he hadn’t paced himself a hole in the floor by now. The fact that you seemed to be getting over the dependency more quickly than him was awkward, to say the least. But he hadn’t protested when you asked him to leave with Papyrus… That had to mean something, right?

You walked slowly from Papyrus’ house to your own, hyper-aware of your isolation. The mountain air was crisp and fresh. You watched your breath condense in it, momentarily distracted by the sights and sounds of nature around you until you abruptly found yourself standing right in front of your own house. With cold fingers, you struggled to remove the nail holding the poster in place. You didn’t have a tool to remove it; you’d hammered it in with a rock, initially. Thankfully, you hadn’t done a very good job of it, and you eventually managed to wiggle the nail free.

The poster slid to the ground and made a loud warbling noise, as laminated paper tended to do. You bent down and rolled it up, tucking the poster under your left arm while the right was occupied with your cane. By the time you were through with that ordeal, you turned around to see Papyrus and Sans walking back out from the Underground together.

You made your way over to them, watching with amusement as Papyrus dumped all of the wood he was carrying onto the ground. Sans, meanwhile, levitated his one piece of lumber down slowly until it rested on top of Papyrus’ pile. The younger brother looked aggravated, but in such a way that everyone could tell he wasn’t really angry.

“That was quick,” you said as soon as you got close enough to be heard. To your surprise, another voice from inside the maw of the cave answered,

“Woulda been a lot slower, if these two whippersnappers hadn’t rushed me!” 

Even before Gerson emerged, you found yourself grinning from ear to ear. The old turtle had helped you a lot by giving you the necromancy book many months ago. It was nice to see him again, even though he wouldn’t make the connection between you and Orion. He hobbled out into the sunlight, blinking up at it before shaking his head and turning his attention back to you, “Hey there, young’un! Don’t believe we’ve met… The name’s Gerson.” He held out his hand for you to shake. You took it happily.

“Pleased to meet you, I’m-”

“Wahaha!” the old monster laughed before you could finish, “‘Ain’t no need to introduce yourself, bucko! I reckon every man, woman, and child knows who you are!”

You blushed, suddenly feeling self-conscious. You supposed that made sense; you were rather famous among humans, and it seemed obvious that you would be among monsters, too. But to hear it stated so plainly was strange.

“Gerson leant us the wood!” Papyrus exclaimed, cheerfully oblivious to your discomfort, “He’s always got spare things lying around!” 

“Yes, well, at least my hoardin’ gave you an excuse to come and visit me!” The turtle crossed his arms with indignation. He looked at you, but pointed to Papyrus with his thumb. “I swear, this one never has the time to talk to his ol’ guardian… Sad, innit?”

“I visit you all the time!” Papyrus squawked defensively. It was weird to watch Gerson and Papyrus, two people who you’d never seen interact before, argue back and forth like family. And to hear Gerson call himself Papyrus’ guardian…

Suddenly, a loud crash interrupted the conversation. Everyone turned to Sans, whose left eye glowed bright blue. One of the wide, round logs Papyrus had carried to the surface came to rest at the bottom of the hill, but not before smashing into every tree and rock along the way. Sans’ eye quickly turned back to normal.

“Whoops… Clumsy,” he confessed with a wink and a false smile. You didn’t think ‘clumsy’ really covered it, but Papyrus seemed to buy it.

“SANS!” he fumed, stomping his foot petulantly, “That was going to be the leg! Now what will the board stand on???” 

“We can go down and carry it back up. Right, Sans?” you quickly assured Papyrus, shooting Sans a look that forbade argument. He sighed imperceptibly.

“Yup,” he agreed. You handed the poster off to Gerson before taking Sans’ arm and leading him back down the hill. Never mind that you wouldn’t be any help carrying a heavy log up a steep cliff; you needed to go with him to have an emergency discussion.

“Sans…” you started as soon as the two of you were out of earshot, but he cut you off,

“Don’t even tell me that it doesn’t bother you,” he said sharply, but with a hint of desperation in his tone. As though he was hoping that he wasn’t the only one. You figured it was better to avoid responding to that.

“I get it, but you can’t go throwing things around because you’re frustrated that Papyrus has other people in his life.” It came out harsher than you’d intended. Sans flinched, and you let go of his arm. Your voice was softer when you continued, “I know it sucks. I know. But you need to move on…”

 _I thought you were ready to move on._ The second half of that sentence didn’t make it past your lips, but Sans seemed to know, anyway. He sighed again and ran a hand over his skull.

“I am. I’m trying, anyway. This won’t happen again.” He walked around you, stiff-backed. Without anything else to do, you followed close behind him. The two of you made it to the bottom of the hill and walked around to where the log had fallen. Its path had created a deep ditch in the snow; the fresh powder was probably what had stopped it from rolling any farther down the road.

“Papyrus’ birthday is comin’ up soon,” he stated casually. You were surprised to hear him talk. The way he said it sounded like a peace offering.

“...What’re you going to get him?” you asked after careful deliberation. Sans lifted the fallen log up with his magic and turned back around to face you.

“Dunno. Probably just gonna reuse old gift ideas from the last timeline,” he joked, but it sounded strained. After a moment of silence, his shoulders sagged as he added, “I’m… uh… worried he won’t like the same stuff he liked before.” You bit your lip, remembering how off-putting it had been for Sans to see Papyrus’ bedroom in Snowdin covered in pirate-themed paraphernalia. 

“I’m sure Papyrus would like anything you got him,” you said honestly, “Maybe we could get him something from both of us? That way, if he doesn’t like it, you can blame it on me.” 

Sans laughed, and a relieved smile spread across your face. You were the one who was supposed to be the compulsive worrier, so it was disconcerting when Sans’ anxiety levels were as high as they had been recently.

“Sounds like a plan,” Sans interrupted your thoughts. You gave him a thumbs-up.

“We can figure out what to get him tonight…” The _’when we’re sharing souls’_ part went unsaid, “But we should probably get back up there now.” You gestured up to where Gerson and Papyrus were undoubtedly waiting for you. You couldn’t see them from this angle, but you assumed they couldn’t really get much work done without the base of the billboard. 

“Right. Let’s go, then.” Sans seemed to steel himself before beginning the walk back, the wayward log hovering in front of him as he went. You followed behind him, hoping that this would be the first and the last outburst of its kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weird to think that part 2 is almost over, but I'm really excited for part 3! It'll be quite different from the first two.
> 
> Remember to check out the dating sim writing and/or editing applications, if you're interested!


	13. He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother

The next few days saw you and Sans scrambling to think of a suitable gift for Papyrus. Sans was uncharacteristically anxious about it, and he kept on shooting down any ideas you offered up. You tried to get Sans to just ask Papyrus what he wanted, but he seemed to think that he should know what to get his brother instinctively. If he didn’t, then he was failing. No matter how many times you told him he was being ridiculous, he still refused to ask. All of your other ideas were either things that Sans thought Papyrus probably already had, or something that couldn’t be bought in the Underground.

“Why don’t I just ask to have something brought in through the supply drop tomorrow?” you finally asked, exasperated by Sans’ stubbornness. “I bet he’d like anything from a human store… And he couldn’t possibly already have it.”

Thankfully, Sans finally agreed with you. However, that did mean that you had to hurry over to the Northwest tower to ask a favor of Charlie, who you figured was the only human you knew who would be willing to smuggle something onto the helicopter. As you’d predicted, he was more than happy to go against orders to bring you a set of puzzles for Papyrus. The man seemed to thrive on disobedience.

“Actually, uh, while I’m here… Could I ask you to bring me something else, too?” You asked Charlie, who was leaning back on his chair with his feet propped up on the big table. You were used to being in here when the room was crowded by humans and monsters, so it felt odd to be alone with the officer in his workspace. You’d lied to Sans, telling him that he should stay home because Charlie was more likely to say yes to you without him there. Really, though, you’d just wanted to ask Charlie this question without Sans listening in.

“I’m all ears,” Charlie said, his chair creaking as he leaned further back. You half-hoped that he’d tip his chair over, but no such luck. Maybe another time.

“It’s not just Papyrus’ birthday… Sans’ is on the same day. I was wondering if you could bring me a present to give to him, while you’re at it?” You recalled Sans telling you that, since he didn’t know his own birthday, he’d just made it be on the same day as Papyrus’. The younger brother had always loved having the same birthday as Sans, not knowing that Sans had only picked that day for himself out of convenience and laziness. Still, even if Sans didn’t place much importance on his own birthday, you couldn’t let it slide without getting him a present.

Charlie quirked his brow skeptically.

“Huh, weird. What’re the odds of that?” Exasperated, you rolled your eyes at him. Out of everyone, Charlie gave you the most trouble when it came to trying to keep secrets from him. Even Reives, who you knew didn’t believe your story about getting lost in the Underground, seemed to have let it drop. Charlie, however, was always looking for threads to pull at. But he wasn’t going to get anywhere if he thought that Sans’ birthday was some kind of conspiracy. 

“I dunno. What’s one divided by 365?” You quipped, and Charlie groaned,

“Smart-ass.” You flashed him a winning smile, but he continued as if he didn’t see, “Alright, I’ll get you your present… I’m starting to feel like I’m your errand-boy.” You smiled more genuinely this time and said with sincerity,

“Thanks, Charlie. I owe you one.”

After explaining the idea you had for Sans’ gift, you stopped asking for favors from Charlie and let him get back to work. The problem with your plan was that you weren’t sure if you could keep it a surprise; with you and Sans sharing souls every night, he was bound to see that you’d asked Charlie to get him a present, too. You tried to block it from your mind that night, but you’d never been very good at keeping things from Sans, even when your souls had been permanently attached. However, if he’d seen anything about the surprise, Sans gave no indication of it. The night came and went, and he never mentioned anything about the present. You were left wondering if you had really managed to keep it from him, or if he was just pretending not to know for your sake.

You got your answer soon enough. When the supply drop came the next day, a young guard who you’d never seen before showed up at your door with two wrapped gifts in tow.

“Uh, Officer Tucker told me to give these to you…?” she said uncertainly. You took the gifts from her with a snort of laughter; you couldn’t believe that Charlie had actually _wrapped_ them for you. It was oddly considerate.

“Thanks.” The guard nodded awkwardly before turning on heel and walking back to the helicopter. You closed the door and turned around only to find yourself face-to-face with Sans.

“Hey, are one of those for me?” he asked, his eyes brighter than usual. You sighed melodramatically.

“So you did know?” You were playing it up, but you were actually a little disappointed that your surprise had been ruined. Sans shrugged.

“Kinda. I knew somethin’ was up, and I just figured it had to do with today. Can I open it?” He bounced on his heels, and you laughed. You hadn’t expected him to be this enthusiastic, but you were glad he was in a good mood. It was his birthday, too, after all. 

“Knock yourself out,” you said, tipping your small stack of presents so that the top one fell into his arms. He caught it with some difficulty. You grinned mischievously, knowing that it was heavier than it looked.

You watched his expression carefully as he tore off the wrapping paper. The paper fell to the floor, leaving Sans holding a rather thick book.

“It’s about astronomy… Y’know, the sky up here is perfect for stargazing. The city’s far enough away that the light pollution doesn’t really affect-”

Sans silenced you with a surprise kiss. The book in question was pinned between both of your chests. Although the press of his teeth to your lips was quick and chaste, it still left you breathless.

“I love it. Thanks, babe.” You nodded and smiled dumbly, to which Sans laughed. You rarely ever heard him laugh so freely and earnestly; you wished he would do it more often.

After you discarded the used wrapping paper and Sans found a place to put his new book, the two of you headed over to Papyrus’ house. Upon hearing your knock, Undyne opened the door for you with a toothy grin. 

“Oh hey, nerds!” She eyed the present in Sans’ hands and laughed, “Ha! You got us a present?! You should’ve waited for next month! A six month anniversary is much more impressive than five!”

It took you a moment to understand what she was saying. When you did, you scoffed, assuming she was joking, “It’s for Papyrus, obviously… But I didn’t know it was your anniversary, too. I’ll have to remember that.” Undyne looked oddly confused, but she did step aside to let you and Sans into the house as she yelled,

“Papyrus! Your weird siblings are here to see you!”

You walked into the living room, glancing back at Sans quizzically. Undyne was acting as if she didn’t even know what day it was. Had Papyrus not told his friends that his birthday was coming up? Sans shrugged, the two of you agreeing nonverbally that it was odd.

You heard Papyrus’ thundering feet approaching before he burst out of his room, a big smile on his face.

“Hello, siblings! Have you come to join me on my noble quest to find the matching sock?” Sure enough, when you looked down, you saw that one of Papyrus’ skeletal feet were bare. When he caught sight of the gift Sans was holding, he gasped. “Oh! A present?!? Is it someone’s birthday??? I must send them my well wishes!”

Now you were just confused. You were certain you had the right day… Did Papyrus not know his own birthday? You looked back at Sans again and, somehow, seeing his mortified expression made it all click into place.

It _wasn’t_ Papyrus’ birthday… Not in this timeline. Sans had been the one to arbitrarily make up a birthday for himself and his brother back when they were kids. Without Sans in his life, it would make sense that Pap would celebrate it on a different day. God, you were so stupid! You should’ve anticipated this as soon as Sans mentioned Papyrus’ birthday to you.

In isolation, maybe this mix-up wouldn’t have been a big deal. But Sans had been looking forward to this day more than he ever usually looked forward to anything. And you hadn’t been much help, having encouraged him as much as you did. Sans didn’t look outwardly upset; his expression had gone from embarrassed to controlled in a matter of seconds. However, you could still see his clenched fingers leaving dents in the box he was holding. He wasn’t about to say anything, so you were left with the task of explaining.

“Sorry, Pap… We thought it was _your_ birthday, actually. Because, well, it used to be on the same day as Sans’-” Papyrus cut you off with a gasp,

“You mean… Today is Sans’ birthday?!?” That wasn’t at all what you’d meant for him to get out of this. But, still, you nodded. This elicited another scandalized gasp from Pap. “Brother! I had no idea!” He tackled Sans in a bone-crushing hug, lifting him up off his feet and causing him to drop Papyrus’ abandoned present. “You should’ve told me… I would’ve gotten you a gift! Prepared a party! Something!!!”

You couldn’t see Sans’ face, so you were worried about his reaction. You recalled him throwing that log off the face of the cliff, and found yourself concerned for the health of the T.V. nearby. To your pleasant surprise, you heard Sans laugh breathlessly,

“Yeah, I guess I wasn’t thinking about that.”

Papyrus frowned and held Sans out at arm's length. “You should think of yourself more often! But never fear… Your favorite brother will throw you the best last-minute birthday party ever!”

With that, Papyrus tucked Sans under his arm like he weighed nothing and turned to you. “Sibling! Come and help me make Sans the greatest birthday breakfast he has ever had the pleasure of tasting!” He marched off, making quite a show of depositing Sans on a chair while you followed behind, bewildered. This couldn’t possibly go well; it was only a matter of time before the strain of having found yet another difference between this Papyrus and the one he knew threw Sans into either a fit of rage or depression. But you figured you might as well play along on the off chance that Papyrus’ forceful celebrations actually worked.

Somehow, miraculously, it did work. It was all thanks to Pap; despite the ridiculously short notice, he pulled out all the stops. Even though you and Sans had already eaten breakfast at your house, the omelets Pap guided you through making were delicious enough to stuff yourself full. He didn’t tell Undyne or Alphys about the misunderstanding, though Undyne was left confused as to why Sans would bring a present to his own birthday party. Instead, Papyrus’ two housemates joined you for breakfast and, later, a rematch of that unfinished snowball fight that had been cut short by your sudden illness months ago.

Wisely, you decided to sit this one out, figuring you were bad luck at snowball fights. You watched from a safe distance as Sans and Papyrus teamed up to wreck Undyne and Alphys. Sans had been pretty quiet all morning, but he was smiling as he and his brother used their magic to ruthlessly pelt the other two with snowballs, so you figured he couldn’t be feeling too badly. You made a mental note to ask Papyrus when his birthday actually was so that you and Sans could throw him his own party.

While observing the epic battle occurring in the snow-covered road, you noticed another spectator watching from a distance. Frisk sat in front of their own house, their knees drawn up and their chin resting on their crossed arms. They were dressed in their warm winter gear, looking like they were fully prepared to join the ongoing snowball fight. You wondered why they didn’t.

You looked to your left and right, hoping that someone else would notice the morose-looking kid and invite them to join in on the fun. Unfortunately, the others were all too distracted. You bit your lip. If you went over there, you worried that, whatever was troubling the kid, you’d only make it worse. However, you figured it was better to try than to leave it be.

Resolutely, you stuffed your free hand in your pocket and walked over to Frisk. They watched you silently as you approached and sat down next to them.

“Hi Frisk,” you started, feeling immediately awkward. You rarely ever talked directly to the kid, and were beginning to realize how difficult it would be. You didn’t speak sign language, aside from a few common phrases here and there. Thankfully, you didn’t need to be bilingual to understand the weak wave Frisk offered you in return.

“Don’t you want to go play with everyone else? I’m sure Undyne and Alphys would appreciate another teammate right about now.”

Frisk shook their head solemnly. They raised their hands, then looked at you and paused. Their face scrunched up in frustration, and you suddenly felt guilty for not speaking their language.

Before you could apologize, Frisk held up one finger, telling you to wait. They scrambled to their feet and darted inside. You watched them go, not even shutting the door behind them in their haste. They reemerged in less than ten seconds, a pen and pad of paper now in their triumphant hands.

“Oh, good idea,” you praised, but Frisk ignored you in favor of frantically scribbling something down on the notepad. They handed it to you with a blank expression before sitting back down at your side. You read,

Whose birthday is it?

You were surprised at how neat the kid’s handwriting was. Even the spelling was flawless. You looked over at them, wondering if that was normal for someone their age. Honestly, you had no idea.

“Sans,” you answered, an unintentional smile creeping on your face as you said his name. Frisk nodded and went back to hugging their knees. You were left holding the notepad, feeling lost. You picked at one of the pages absent-mindedly.

Eventually, Frisk took pity on you and gestured for you to give them the paper back. This time, when they finished writing, they ripped the paper out and gave it to you.

It was my birthday yesterday.

A spark of surprise, followed by confusion, caused you to blink and reread the paper to make sure you hadn’t misunderstood. But no… There it was, in plain English. You wracked your brain frantically, but you were fairly certain no one had told you it was Frisk’s birthday, so you couldn’t be blamed. Sans hadn’t known, either, or you would’ve seen it in his mind. Did Toriel even know? She would’ve thrown a party for Frisk if she had…

“Oh… Are you sad because no one remembered?” At your question, Frisk wrinkled their nose and shook their head. You waited patiently while they wrote.

I hate my birthday.

You read over Frisk’s shoulder, looking on with a frown as they vigorously underlined the word “hate.”

“How come?” you asked, feeling a little scandalized. You’d loved your birthday when you were a kid. Hell, you still enjoyed it now. What was there to hate?

It was only when Frisk reached up to wipe their face that you realized they were crying.

“Oh, uh, you don’t have to tell me,” quickly, you backtracked. Your burned, and not just from the biting cold. Frisk looked up at you with an odd expression, seeming as though they were only just realizing who they were talking to.

Don’t tell anyone! They quickly scribbled down. You shook your head.

“I won’t… Cross my heart.” You traced an X over your chest, feeling silly. It got a tearful smile out of the kid, though. There was an awkward silence, which Frisk didn’t seem inclined to fill. They tapped their pen on the notepad, appearing deep in thought. Were they talking to Chara?

“So, uh…” You hurried to think of something to say to distract them. You felt uncomfortable with Frisk and Chara talking to each other when you were sitting right next to them. You knew what Chara was like, and could only imagine what they were saying. “If yesterday was your birthday, then how old are you now?” Kids liked to brag about their age, right? Sure enough, Frisk’s face brightened up. They tucked the notepad under their arm and held up all but one finger.

“Nine, huh? And you can still beat my ass at video games…” Frisk giggled, and you realized your mistake with a gasp, “Butt! I meant butt! Stop laughing, don’t tell your mom I said that!” The damn kid was still snickering as they wrote,

I won’t. They glanced over at the snowball fight still raging in the middle of the street, then continued on the same line, I’m going to go play now. Bye!

With that, they handed the pad of paper off to you and ran into the street. You blinked, surprised by their sudden departure. You were left wondering if you’d done a good thing or not. You’d made them cry, yeah, but somehow you didn’t think it had been a total disaster. At least you’d accomplished your goal of getting them to go play with their friends, if nothing else. 

You looked back down at the paper, then stuffed it into the inner pocket of your coat. It couldn’t hurt to keep some writing utensils on you, just in case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus, I have like, no free time to write anymore. I'll finish this fic come hell or high water, though!
> 
> Fun fact, I wrote most of this chapter on my own birthday. It was lit.


	14. Let's Play Monsters and Humans

“Shit!” you cussed as you burnt your fingers on a piece of toast. You struggled to get it out of your crappy toaster, and you didn’t have time to wait a minute for it to cool.

Mercifully, Sans appeared to save the day. He plucked the toast out of the toaster like it was no big deal, holding it out to you with a smug grin.

While he was busy showing off, you grabbed your coat off the back of the nearby chair. As you hastened to pull it on, you bent down and took the toast from Sans with your teeth. A grunt of thanks was all you could manage with your mouth full of bread.

“Dunno why you’re so worked up… s’not gonna matter if you’re a couple minutes late.” Sans’ logic did not placate you. You glared at him, biting and swallowing a slightly too large mouthful of toast as soon as you had a free hand.

“It does matter,” you said, stubbornly and without explanation. It mattered that Reives and Wolfe thought you were competent at your job, and being late to a meeting wouldn’t help that image. But you didn’t have time to say that, as you were stuffing your face with toast while struggling to button your coat at the same time. You wouldn’t have even bothered with breakfast if Sans hadn’t insisted that you eat something before you leave. He took a step closer to you, gently turning you around by tugging on the lapels of your coat. You complied, and couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him as he started doing the buttons for you. You leaned back against the chair behind you, munching on your toast a little more slowly.

“There,” He said as he finished, smoothing his hand over the buttons. He looked up at you, and you felt a little flutter of warmth in your chest.

Your momentary peace was disrupted by three loud knocks on the front door.

“Shit,” You said for the second time, “That’s gotta be Undyne,” In one fluid motion, you spun around and grabbed your cane, which had been leaning against the table. You opened the door and, sure enough, there was the captain of the Royal Guard herself.

“Jeez, what’s the hold up? You’re usually ready before me!” She looked between you and Sans, who had come to stand beside you. “Busy morning?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows and cackling with mirth. Although you and Sans had worked out your feelings about all of that a while ago, Undyne was unaware that anything had changed. Worse that that, now Sans seemed to be perfectly comfortable returning her snide quips…

“Oh yeah, I took ‘em on a trip to the _bone_ zone.” He winked at you like it was a secret that all you’d really done was stay in bed cuddling for too long. Still, though, the dirty joke set your cheeks on fire.

“OKAY,” you said loudly, shoving him away from you. You took a step toward Undyne and grabbed the door handle before shouting over your shoulder “LOVE YOU BYE.”

You slammed the door shut on him and began to walk away. Undyne shot you an odd look before following. It took you a half second to realize why…

Neither of you had ever said the L-word before now.

With a gasp, you spun around and rushed back to the house. You had no idea what you were planning on doing when you threw open the door, but Sans made your decision for you as he surged up to kiss you on the lips.

You didn’t know why you’d been afraid of his reaction. Nor did you know why you hadn’t told him you loved him before... But damn if it wasn’t true. You didn’t care if your relationship was strange. You didn’t care about the rocky history between the two of you. You didn’t even care if maybe the only reason you loved him in the first place was because he held a part of your soul. The why’s and how’s didn’t matter to you. Not now, not ever. 

What _did_ matter was that the familiar feeling of his teeth against your lips caused you to relax instinctively. You were hyper aware of his hand slipping under yours, his thumb rubbing your palm soothingly as he pulled away just enough to say,

“Love you, too.”

His face was still so close to yours that you could see nothing else. You cleared your throat, feeling a blush spread all the way up to your ears.

“You were saying?” Sans teased, and damn him for making you hate the fact that you really had to go.

“Nothing.” You squeezed his hand and sighed. Sure enough, Undyne groaned behind you.

“Alright, we get it, you’re madly in love with each other. We’re gonna be late to this meeting if you lovebirds don’t break it up.” You looked back at her, your eyes sliding up to glance at the guard tower in the distance. Now that you were slowly floating back down to Earth, you wondered if anyone had seen you and Sans kissing. You were still high enough that you couldn’t bring yourself to care. But, for Undyne’s sake, you let go of Sans’ hand and took a step back.

“Alright, well… See you later.” You felt a stab of guilt as Sans’ face twisted with pain. You knew he hated when you left him alone, but it couldn’t be avoided. You really had to go to this meeting. Before you could explain, Sans said with a neutral expression,

“Right. See ya.” He paused, then managed a sad but genuine smile. You took it as a sign that he understood, and wasn’t upset with you. Carefully, he closed the front door. You put your hand in your pocket, clenching it into a fist as though that might preserve the feeling of his bones on your skin. You smiled a little, then turned around and started walking.

The trek through the forest was torture, as Undyne spent the whole time teasing you about Sans. You tried to shoot back snide comments about her and Alphys, but those seemed to wash over her like water over a duck’s back. She and Alphys were rather private anyway, so you didn’t have much material to work with. 

It was a blessing when the two of you finally reached the base of the tower, where Asgore was already waiting for you. You all walked up the many stairs together, only just making it to the top on time.

“Good morning,” Reives greeted you politely. He, Charlie, and Wolfe were already sitting in their usual spots. “Bit of a late start today?” He looked between you and Undyne as though trying to decide which of you were more likely to hold everyone up. You would’ve liked to have said something witty back, but you were still out of breath from climbing all of those stairs.

“Apologies… I do hope we have not inconvenienced you,” Asgore said, the saltiness in his tone only detectable by those who knew him well. Leave it to Reives to complain about you arriving on time.

“Oh no, not at all.” Reives waved his hand dismissively. You glanced up at Charlie, who rolled his eyes. You could always count on him for entertaining, yet silent, commentary.

“Shall we get started?” Wolfe suggested neutrally.

“Yes. I believe this should be brief,” Asgore said as he, Undyne, and you all took your seats.

“Perhaps not. I would like to discuss the search party that was promised at the town meeting. But first… What supplies will you be needing in the next drop?”

The supply negotiations were always the most boring part of the meeting, so you allowed your mind to wander. The fact that Reives wanted to talk about anything other than maintaining the status quo was unprecedented. Well, you had something you wanted to propose, too. This meeting would have to be navigated carefully, which was something that you knew you weren’t always very good at.

As soon as the supplies were worked out, Reives launched into the topic he was obviously itching to talk about,

“So, this search party… People have been wondering if we’re going to follow through with it. I believe we need to sort out the logistics soon, before the public gets more restless,” he spoke to Asgore, who nodded his big head slowly.

“I do believe it will be a positive step toward building trust between our species. We need to show the humans that we do not live like animals… That we are not so different from them.” The King glanced at you briefly. You’d had many discussions with him over the past months, trying to explain how the majority of humans might see the monsters from an outside perspective. It was hard to know for sure, being as cut off from the rest of humanity as you were. But you at least had some idea of human nature and how threatened they tended to feel toward anyone different from them.

“Yes, of course,” Reives said. He was being oddly agreeable, and it made you suspicious of his motives. “Although, with it being a search party, I believe we should be a little more selective with who we let in.”

“How so?” Asgore asked, to which Reives straightened up in his chair and replied,

“Well, we shouldn’t let just anybody waltz around down there, especially if they are to be doing a job. I could put together a group of some of the finest agents, fly them up here, and-”

“I thought Asgore was going to pick who got to go?” you interrupted sharply, “I mean, you got to choose which monsters went to South Ebott, after all.” Reives shot you a piercing look. It might’ve cowed you months ago, but now you held his gaze confidently.

“Certainly, if he has an issue with any of the agents, he can express his concerns,” Reives said slowly. Under the table, you nudged Asgore’s foot with your own. You just knew that, if the King let him, Reives would weasel his way into the search party. You hated the idea of letting strange FBI agents have free reign of the Underground, and hated the thought of letting Reives go down there even more. Asgore was never very good at subtlety, but, luckily, he seemed to pick up on your signal this time.

“I am afraid I must insist on having full control over who is allowed into the Underground. You must understand… This is my home. You would not allow just any stranger to walk into your home, correct?” You let out the breath you’d been holding, relieved that Asgore stood up for himself. Reives’ lips pressed together tightly before he replied,

“If the FBI showed up at my house, I would certainly let them in.”

Tension flooded the room. You cringed at the weight of it, then shot back,

“Not without a warrant, you wouldn’t.” Reives looked down his nose at you, his brows raised.

“With the number of people going missing around here, I could certainly get a warrant.”

“That’s circumstantial.”

“You have a bachelor's degree in biology, what do you know about the law?”

“Apparently more than you-”

“Whenever you two are done comparing lengths, feel free to let the rest of us know,” Undyne spoke up, cutting you off. She rarely ever spoke at meetings. You looked over at her, shocked. She seemed genuinely annoyed, which was how you knew you’d let the argument go too far. Meanwhile, Charlie burst out laughing. Even though there was a nervous edge to it, his immature laughter still served to clear some of the tension.

You looked back at Reives, whose cheeks were tinged pink. Whether from residual anger or embarrassment, you didn’t know. The two of you may have disagreed before, but there had always been a pretense of politeness in the past. You were both getting frustrated with each other, clearly. 

“My apologies,” he said as gracefully as he could manage. You grunted in agreement and avoided meeting anyone’s gaze. There was a pause as everyone tried to figure out where to go from there. Wolfe spoke first,

“Well, King Asgore… If not a group of highly trained agents, who would you invite to go on this search party?” 

Asgore hummed as he thought. You stared fixedly at the grains of wood on the table, not daring to speak up. Reives was equally silent. Ridiculously, you felt like the two of you were in time-out.

“Perhaps we can compromise. Officer Tucker is fairly well-known by the monsters underground, and I would be willing to take some of the other guards if he will vouch for them.”

You blinked, surprised. All heads turned to Charlie, who looked equally shocked. It was… actually a pretty good idea. You trusted Charlie, and liked most of the other guards well enough. The man in question paused his note taking and nodded his head slowly.

“I mean, that’d be fine by me. Thanks for…” He waved his hand in a noncommittal gesture. His expression said he was genuinely touched by the show of faith, but didn’t know how to express it. 

“I believe that would be an acceptable compromise, if everyone is in agreement.” Wolfe looked from Reives to you pointedly. You grudgingly looked up at the other agent and shrugged.

“Sounds good to me.” 

Reives tipped his head and shrugged back.

“If that’s the only way.” He seemed less happy about the compromise than you were, and you could imagine why. You suspected that his plan all along was to get himself into the Underground, for God knows what reason. If that was the case, then the officers getting to go down there was no better than the civilians. You couldn’t help but to feel smug, knowing that you got the better end of the deal.

“Excellent,” Asgore said in a pleased, rumbling voice, “Then I will have a list of officers ready in time for our next meeting. Are there any other matters to discuss?”

There was a moment of silence. You did have something else to talk about but, after your argument with Reives, you weren’t sure it was smart to stir the pot more today. But, then again… Your plan to navigate this meeting carefully had gone out the window. Why not go all the way?

“Actually, yes,” you blurted out, and thought for a moment that you caught a brief expression of annoyance on Reives’ face. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to bring up…” You leaned forward and crossed your arms on the table, tapping your finger against the wood twice before continuing,

“We need a better means of communication up here on the mountain. As of right now, the only way for information to get in and out of here is through helicopter. It’s inefficient and, if we’re going to make any progress here, we need to start building infrastructure to connect the monsters and the humans. That means roads, cell towers, cable lines…” you trailed off, leaving a lot unsaid. You didn’t say anything about how your proposal implied distrust in the very FBI agents you were trying to convince. If you wanted a way to communicate directly with the humans, then that meant you didn’t trust Reives and Wolfe to send messages back and forth. Which, of course, you didn’t. You had a feeling they were suppressing the information coming in, especially after the town meeting. And they were definitely not being truthful to the human public, as evidence by how Reives had lied about the gold. Who knew what else he could be lying about?

You didn’t say any of that, but it was implied. And, whatever else you could say about Reives and Wolfe, they were smart people. They knew what you were saying; you could only harp on “inefficiencies” so much. So you let your thought trail, letting them fill in the rest.

“...It would be far too expensive. Outrageously expensive, to build those things all the way up here…” That was what Reives said, but you heard something different. You heard, “We don’t trust you, either.”

“We have a lot of gold, surely that could pay for it,” you argued, feeling Asgore’s intense stare on the back of your head and stubbornly refusing to turn around to face him. Yes, you were offering up money that wasn’t yours, but if you could net even just one of the things you wanted, it’d be worth it. Asgore asked you to be at these meetings because you were the only one who the agents would take seriously, right? If he didn’t approve of what you were doing right now, he would see the benefits in the future.

Wolfe and Reives looked at each other, the tension in the room mounting again. If the agents had it their way, this conversation wouldn’t have ever come up. They didn’t want to coordinate a large scale construction project like this, and they certainly didn’t want the monsters to have unfiltered access to the human public. Although, what they thought you’d do with cable TV, you weren’t really sure.

After a silence that felt much longer than it really was, Wolfe spoke reluctantly,

“Well, perhaps a road would be beneficial. It would be easier to get supplies in and out.”

“Right, exactly,” you latched onto that. If all you got was a road, you’d be happy. Sure, it wasn’t as exciting as, say, cell reception, but it was something. “It’ll pay for itself in no time.”

Silence again. You could almost hear their minds working, searching for some way to argue with you. When he could find none, Reives said,

“I suppose a simple road connecting us to the highway would not be such a bad idea. Unless anyone else has any objections…?” Nobody spoke up. Reives sighed just softly enough not to be blatantly rude. “We will look into getting that started, and get a dollar amount to you next week.” He fiddled with his wristwatch, then asked again, “Anything else?”

He looked straight at you, and you shook your head. Honestly, you were a little unnerved by how easily they had agreed to the road. You’d expected more of a fight, especially after you and Reives had butted heads earlier. 

For the first time in a while, you spared a glance at Asgore. He looked tense but, otherwise, his expression was hard to read. As you were all saying your formal goodbyes, Undyne shot you an odd look behind the King’s back. You’d never been shy at these meetings, but if even Undyne was disapproving of how brash you’d been… Had you gone too far?

Reives and Wolfe walked out first. Before you, Asgore, and Undyne could leave, Charlie stood up and grabbed your shoulder.

“Wait a sec,” The three of you turned to face him. “I just think I should warn you… When you’re thinkin’ about who to take underground, don’t pick Samuelsson.”

Asgore hummed thoughtfully before asking, “What makes you say that?” Privately, you wondered the same thing. Samuelsson was one of the full-time guards; you saw him more often than most of the others. Granted, you didn’t think he’d ever said more than two words to you. But you’d been under the assumption that he and Charlie got along, if nothing else.

“He’s just been sayin’ some dumb stuff lately. Like… anti-monster kinda stuff. Ever since Orion roughed up that guy in South Ebott…”

You flinched. You hadn’t been prepared to have that incident thrown into the conversation so casually. Of course, Charlie noticed, pausing before continuing on more slowly,

“Anyway… I don’t think he’d cause any trouble, but better safe than sorry.”

“I agree,” Asgore responded solemnly, “Thank you for the warning.”

You felt… guilty. Was it Orion’s fault that one of the people who was supposed to be guarding the monsters had turned against them? You usually tried to forget about things that had happened when you were Orion. But now, you returned to the memory and searched it with scrutiny. Had Samuelsson looked angry? Betrayed? You honestly couldn’t remember. And, even if that was what had soured Samuelsson to the monsters, was it really your fault? It had been Orion who’d thrown that human clear across the street… Not you, and not Sans. However, even though it was Orion, you still felt responsible. 

This was exactly why you tried not to think about these things. If it had been hard to draw the line between you, Sans, and Orion when you were in the same body, it was even harder to distinguish between the three of you now that you were looking back at it from your own, singular perspective. The further you got from the time when you’d shared a body and soul with Sans, the more unreal it seemed. Sure, sharing souls with him at night was comparable, but that was only temporary. It was different on a fundamental level, even if the sensations were similar. Meanwhile, the memories you had of being in Orion’s body almost felt like you stole them from an entirely different person…

While your disjointed mind worked to comprehend things that it seemed to have lost the ability to understand, the conversation around you continued,

“Yeah, no problem. See you next week.” Charlie nodded to you and Undyne, though you continued to stare blankly at a point just over his shoulder.

“Of course,” Asgore said, bowing his head respectfully to the officer before heading out. You were about to mindlessly follow suit when Charlie stopped you yet again,

“Hold up. I still need to talk to you.” You blinked, forcing yourself to snap out of your reverie. Undyne and Asgore stopped at the door and stared. Charlie rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh… privately. If you don’t mind.”

“Oh. We will wait for you at the bottom of the stairs, then,” Asgore said before leaving you and Charlie alone in the tower. Undyne reluctantly followed. Once they were out of earshot, Charlie leaned against the table and said,

“Just thought I’d warn ya… You and your boyfriend might want to be a little more careful where you go around kissin’ each other.”

Your heart dropped at the same time as your face burned bright red. Charlie had seen… It felt like a much bigger deal now than it had an hour or so ago. All of your worried thoughts about Officer Samuelsson suddenly vanished from your mind.

“You… did… did Reives and Wolfe…?” you spluttered, unable to get out a full sentence. Charlie laughed, which did little to calm your nerves.

“They didn’t see. Just me. But if they’d been looking out the window instead of sitting around complaining about how many hours they worked last week… Well. Just be more careful, is all I’m sayin’,” he ended gruffly. You were glad that Charlie had been the only one to see you and Sans kissing, but your cheeks still felt as though they were on fire.

“Do you… um… does it… bother you?” You hated that you cared about Charlie’s opinion, but, dammit, you did. You felt like you and Charlie were friends, of a sort. But, if he disapproved of a human and a monster being together, then you weren’t sure. Charlie shrugged.

“S’none of my business. You gotta do what’s right for you.” His non-answer wasn’t very reassuring. You decided not to push it, afraid that he’d say something worse if you did. To your surprise, Charlie continued on his own, “You two weren’t very subtle, y’know. Us guards all had a bet going.”

“Hey!” you snapped indignantly. However, you were smiling. The fact that the guards had been betting on whether you and Sans were a couple was, somehow, reassuring. At least it didn’t disgust them so much that they couldn’t joke about it.

“What? Like I said, not subtle,” Charlie said with a smirk. His voice morphed into what you guessed was meant to be an imitation of you, “Oh, Sans, let’s wrestle in the snow together! After that we can hold hands and make out on the- ow!” he yelped as you smacked his ankle with your cane. “Hey, don’t make me write you up for assaulting an officer!”

“Don’t make me report you for slander!” you shot back, feeling relieved by the banter. It was still weird that Charlie knew, but it was kinda nice at the same time. You didn’t have to hide it from him, at least.

“Whatever. Get outta here, kid.” He took you by the shoulders and turned you around, nudging you toward the door.

“I’m not that much younger than you,” you pointed out, feeling smug that you got the last word in before shutting the screen door behind you.

You hurried down the stairs until you were out of Charlie’s sight, then stopped and took a deep breath. Although _that_ particular talk had gone better than expected, you weren’t looking forward to hearing what Asgore would have to say about your behavior during the meeting. You’d been assertive, and you stood by it, but you didn’t think that the King would appreciate it much. But hey, he couldn’t be that upset, right? You’d landed him a good deal with the road.

You took your sweet time walking down the rest of the stairs. When you reached the bottom, you saw that Undyne had already left. It was just Asgore waiting for you, and he wasn’t smiling. Seeing him made your confidence plummet.

“Hey,” you greeted him guiltily, even though you didn’t believe you had anything to be sorry for.

“Hello,” Asgore said in return. You searched for any hint of anger in his voice, but found none. “Let’s walk, shall we?”

“Sure.” The two of you began to head back to camp, the sound of your feet crunching in the snow seeming louder than it should’ve been. You shivered.

When you couldn’t take the silence anymore, you spoke up, “Look, I know you don’t like to push the humans, but nothing’s ever gonna get done if we don’t start sticking up for ourselves. They would’ve never given us a road if I hadn’t insisted. I’m only doing what you asked me to do from the start… Stick up for all of the other monsters.”

Asgore let you finish, listening quietly to your declaration. He sighed and looked down at you with kind, but stern eyes.

“I am not upset with you for arguing with Agent Reives and Agent Wolfe. I am unhappy with you because you did not consult me first.”

Your stomach churned anxiously. You wished he’d yell at you. Anger was easier to deal with than solemn disappointment. You looked down at your feet, unable to meet his gaze as he continued,

“When you dominate the conversation… When you offer up gold that is not your own… You make Undyne and I into fools who cannot protect our own interests. I know you do not mean to, but your actions perpetuate the belief that monsters need humans to control them.”

Your fingers tightened around your cane. You hadn't thought of it like that at all.

“But, the road…” you trailed off helplessly. Asgore shook his head.

“The short-term gain is not worth the long-term setback. I do think that, sometimes, you forget your own humanity. You use your privilege to your advantage and, yes, it does allow you to convince the agents to make concessions that they would not have made for myself or Undyne. However, there is a fine line between standing up for monsterkind and making our decisions for us. You must start respecting the fact that you are not a monster and, as much as I appreciate the aid you have given us, there needs to be a limit.”

For a long moment, you thought in silence. The King waited patiently until you spoke again,

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, not so prideful that you couldn’t admit you were wrong this time. The King’s explanation shook you. Was that really how everyone else saw you? Still, though, you felt compelled to defend yourself, “I just didn’t think you’d agree to it if I consulted you first.”

“Then you should have respected my decision,” he said firmly. You couldn’t argue with that, so you didn’t try. Asgore sighed again, louder this time. “I think it would be best if you took some time off. Do not go to the next meeting or come to me for consultation. You may resume your duties in a week’s time.”

“Alright,” you mumbled just as the two of you broke into camp. On some level, you still felt like you’d done the right thing. But you definitely couldn’t do it again; you’d have to change your approach to this whole ambassador thing. Ruefully, you envied Sans’ decision to stay out of politics.

Asgore patted you once on the back, his big hand almost knocking you over on accident. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Good. Take some time to enjoy your break. Have a good afternoon,” he promptly ended the conversation, leaving you behind as he headed back to his own home. You watched his back as he walked away.

You felt lost… What would you do for a whole week without any work? Vacations weren’t really your idea of fun. You became incredibly bored when you had nothing to occupy your mind.

Automatically, you began to walk back home. You supposed the first thing you should do was return to Sans, not only to tell him what happened, but to pick up where you’d left off earlier that morning. You smiled… Maybe this whole vacation thing wouldn’t be so bad. After all, you had a whole week to give your undivided attention to the guy you loved. Even though it was chilly outside, the thought of that made you feel warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy FUCK I've been waiting to write that scene at the beginning for so long. SO LONG.
> 
> I'm such a sucker for the "accidentally-said-I-love-you" trope. I'm not sorry.
> 
> Next chapter is the last one in part 2! It'll probably be a short one, as well, so hopefully it won't take long to write...?


	15. The Dead Can't Speak

Spending a whole week with Sans turned out to be a terrible, mind-numbingly boring experience.

You felt bad thinking it, but you couldn’t deny that you were feeling incredibly unfulfilled after seven whole days of doing absolutely nothing. Sans’ daily routine consisted of lounging on the couch, napping, and reading your old college textbooks. You asked him once why he wasn’t reading the astronomy book you got him, and his answer was that he’d already gone through the whole thing. Twice.

“Think I’ll go for number three once I’m done with this one.” Lazily, he waved your organic chemistry textbook over his head. You stared at him incredulously.

“You need to get some new hobbies.”

Really, you shouldn’t have been surprised that this was what he did all day. After all, even when you weren’t on a forced vacation, you were still with Sans most of the time. You didn’t work that many hours. And, even when you did work, you saw exactly what he did when you were gone when the two of you shared souls. But, somehow, being with him all day every day made it more real just how boring his life was.

You tried not to comment about it. You really tried. You knew he didn’t welcome other people lecturing him about his lifestyle. You knew about how defensive he’d been when Toriel talked to him about it. But, by day seven, you finally broke.

“Let’s go do something,” you whined, dramatically draping yourself over Sans as he tried to read. You were bored and frustrated that Asgore and Undyne were currently at a meeting that you weren’t allowed to go to, so you needed something else to occupy your mind. Sans looked down at you on his lap, wearing a puzzled, but amused expression.

“Like what?” he asked, petting your hair absentmindedly, “Somethin’ in particular you wanna do?”

“No, I just can’t stand watching you do nothing.”

Sans rolled his eyes. He slid the open textbook out from under your head, dog-earing the page before closing it and tossing it on the floor. The loud noise made you flinch. Sans touched your head again reassuringly. “Sounds like that’s your problem, not mine.”

You huffed, then sat up, displacing Sans’ hand. “Let’s go over to Toriel’s house,” you suggested. Sans’ expression hardened. He didn’t really love going over there anymore after his argument with the former queen. But it wasn’t like you could go bug Papyrus or Alphys. It was a weekday, and they were at work. Toriel was the only option available. You knew Sans would go if you asked and, sure enough,

“Alright, if you insist.”

Several minutes later, you found yourself knocking on your neighbor’s door. Sans stood slightly behind you, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie.

“Oh! Hello dears,” Toriel said when she opened the door, looking a little haggard and surprised to see you. You felt bad for not visiting her as much anymore; even though she’d said some not so great things about you to Sans, you didn’t blame her as much as he seemed to. You could see how, from her perspective, it would look like you were taking advantage of Sans. You even agreed with her that he should probably get out and do his own thing on occasion, but you just weren’t willing to press him about it like she was.

“Hi Toriel,” you said with a smile, “Mind if we hang out?”

“Of course! You know you are both always welcome here.” She stepped aside to let you in. You heard the TV in the living room just before you saw Frisk, who was lying sideways on the couch with a controller in their hand. You grinned; you liked seeing them playing with your old playstation. It made you feel like you’d done something right by giving it to them.

“Frisk, dear, we have guests… Say hello,” Toriel ordered with a stern edge to her voice that reminded you sharply of your own mother. Frisk tore their eyes away from the TV for half a second.. Just long enough to give you an indifferent wave before focusing their attention back to their videogame. Sans plopped himself down on the other side of the couch and began to ask them questions about the game.

Meanwhile, you noticed something in the dining area that caught your attention. Conveniently, it also refocused the conversation away from the fact that Sans was kind of ignoring Toriel.

“Hey! You got a new vase!” You walked over to get a better look at it. Frisk made a small noise of discontent as you crossed in front of the TV.

“Oh, yes… I realized that, now that Orion is not around to knock it over, it would be safe to get a new centerpiece,” Toriel explained teasingly. You laughed and shook your head. Sometimes you still caught yourself carefully navigating around rooms as if you were large enough to accidentally bump things over with your nonexistent wings. It was funny how habits like that tended to linger.

The new bouquet of flowers on the table looked more like a bunch of weeds that had been dug up from around camp. As though sensing your unspoken question, she elaborated,

“Frisk picked all of the flowers for me.”

“Impressive, considering the ground’s still frozen. Can’t be much growing out there,” you commented, and Toriel smiled.

“Yes, they were very determined.” Both of you glanced back over at Frisk, who had set down their controller to explain something to Sans. He nodded along, listening intently to whatever they were talking about. Neither of them seemed to be paying attention to you or Toriel.

“So, how have you been doing as of late?” she asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down in one graceful motion. You followed suit, turning your own chair so that you were facing her but could also still see Sans out of the corner of your eye.

“Fine… Bored,” you said with a sigh, your shoulders slumping. “Dunno if you’ve heard, but Asgore won’t let me work.”

“Yes, I did hear that from Papyrus,” she said as she folded her hands in her lap. “When are you able to return to work?”

“Tomorrow,” you said as you glanced at the clock on the wall. The meeting should’ve started by now, and you weren’t going to be there. You wondered what Reives and Wolfe would think about your absence. 

“Ah, well… It must be nice to have a little break, even if it is not under the most ideal of circumstances.”

You shrugged at her attempt to look on the bright side of things. You knew you were moping, but you felt like you had a right to. Toriel hummed thoughtfully, something you’d noticed that she and Asgore both did sometimes. You didn’t dare point that out, though.

“From what I heard about the situation, I believe you did the right thing.” You raised your brows at Toriel’s declaration. She explained, “King Asgore cannot stand confrontation. He would allow the humans to walk all over us if not for you and Undyne.”

Again, you shrugged. “Well, it’s done now. I just have to be bored for one more day, anyway.” You smiled. Really, you just didn’t want to get in the middle of this grudge Tori still held toward Asgore. She pursed her lips, but acquiesced,

“Yes, I suppose that is true.”

After that, there was a lull in the conversation. Your attention wandered to Sans, who was still on the couch with Frisk. He was now the one holding the controller while Frisk kneeled next to him, hovering over his shoulder and instructing him on what to do. Whenever Sans turned his head away to look at the screen, you could see the dime-sized hole in the back of his head. Sometimes, you worried about it. What if he bumped his head again? Would it grow larger? But it had been months since he got his own body back, and the little hole hadn’t changed at all since then.

After a couple minutes, Toriel broke the silence,

“So, how are you doing otherwise? Are you feeling well?”

It had been a while since anyone had asked after your health, and for good reason. With Papyrus healing you on a regular basis, you felt utterly normal. The two of you had developed a routine, and the familiarity made it less weird. You stood by your earlier assertion that, had it been anyone other than Papyrus, you would’ve been deeply uncomfortable relying on someone as much as you were. But he did a good job of putting you at ease, and you knew that he would never take advantage of his unique position as your lifeline. So, in a strange way, it all worked out.

However, for Toriel, you simplified your answer, “Very well, actually. Pap does a good job.”

“I am glad to hear it,” she paused, then asked in a low voice, “...And how about Sans?”

“Oh, he’s fine,” you said with a wave of your hand, “He never had an trouble with his health after the split.”

“No, dear. I am referring to how the two of you are getting along. Is everything… Going well?”

You were caught off guard by the question. Was she asking about your relationship? You opened your mouth to answer, but, before you could say anything, you were cut off by a loud knock on the door.

Everyone stopped what they were doing. Toriel tutted and rose from her chair.

“Now, who could that be?” she mused aloud. You honestly had no idea; everyone else who lived in camp was off to work. You and Sans were the only ones who would go to Toriel’s in the middle of the morning, and obviously it wasn’t you doing the knocking.

When Toriel opened the door, you were surprised to see five humans on the other side. You only recognized three of them; Reives, Wolfe, and Samuelsson. You could surmise that the other two were a government agent and an officer, judging by their clothes.

“Oh, hello,” Toriel greeted them, sounding understandably nervous. You and Sans stood at the same time and looked over at each other. Reives and Wolfe weren’t even supposed to be here… They should’ve been at the meeting right now. Whatever was going on, it was bad news.

“Good morning…” Reives said gruffly. His eyes grew a fraction wider when he caught sight of you. He obviously hadn’t been expecting to see you there. You reached for the phone in your back pocket, wondering if you should call Asgore. Did he know what was going on? Before you could do anything, you were distracted by Reives speaking again as the humans all let themselves into Toriel’s house.

“I’m afraid I have some rather unfortunate news.” He brushed a hand over his suit jacket, smoothing out the lapels before addressing Toriel, “You were informed of the lawsuit involving Frisk’s guardianship, correct?” A long silence stretched out as cold, crystalline dread settled in your stomach. You didn’t know what was going on, but you could guess. Your eyes darted over to look at Frisk. Their knees were drawn up and their expression looked blank, similar to how you’d found them sitting outside a couple weeks ago. You had a feeling that a lot more was going on with Tori and Frisk lately than you’d been aware of.

“Yes, I received a letter a few days ago,” the former queen said in a tense, chilled tone.

“Well, I regret to inform you that the court ruled in favor of the plaintiff. Frisk must be returned to the human world as soon as-”

“That’s not fair!” Everyone jumped in surprise when Frisk shouted. Your breath caught in your throat. Usually, whenever Frisk spoke, it was actually Chara doing the talking. But who was in control now? Not knowing set you on edge. Goosebumps raised on your arms.

The kid’s small face was scrunched up, looking like they were about to cry. Toriel, not knowing the significance of what just happened, stepped to the side to partially block Frisk from view of the agents. Sans did the same, though he kept glancing between the adults and Frisk as though unsure who he was protecting from whom. You stood stock still in the background, too caught off guard to do anything other than stare.

“There must be something else we can do… I would like to speak to our lawyer,” Toriel spoke as though she was all too familiar with the phrase. How long had she been fighting for custody of Frisk? And how had you not known that any of this was happening?!

“Of course. But, until your lawyer can get here, Frisk needs to come with us,” Reives said smoothly, looking only at Toriel. It was like he was purposely avoiding making eye contact with you, Sans, or Frisk. Sans seemed to notice this at the same time as you. He spoke up, forcing Reives to acknowledge him,

“Kiddo’s right… Seems unfair to me.” Everyone looked at him. The officer whose name you didn’t know curled their lip in disgust. A surge of hot anger hit you; what was their problem? Regardless, Sans kept going, 

“They’ve got everything they need here… Good food, friends, love. You really wanna take ‘em away from that?” His voice sounded as easygoing as always, but there was a hidden threat that loomed behind his lazy speech and slouched posture. You didn’t think that anyone other than you and Frisk were picking up on it, though.

“They ain’t gettin’ what they need,” Samuelsson growled. His southern drawl sounded stronger when he was angry, “They goin’ to school? They got any friends their age? They got any good, _human_ role models? I don’t think so… This camp ain’t no place for a kid,” he finished, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Sans and Toriel both looked like they were about to say something, but Reives held up a hand and cut them off,

“We are not here to debate this. It’s already been decided. Unless Frisk’s biological parents come forward, the court will find a human family to adopt them. I’m sorry, but that’s just how it is.” Reives didn’t look very sorry. The third person in a suit - the one you’d never seen before - signed something to Frisk. Boldly, she walked right past Toriel and Sans. They both looked helpless.

“You… You can’t let a stranger take them! They have… special needs!” Tori said in a voice that was much higher pitched than usual. She wrung her hands together. Sans just looked sad. You didn’t know what to do.

“Frisk will be well taken care of, I assure you.” Reives sounded way too calm. Your heart pounded uselessly in your chest as you watched the third agent gently take one of Frisk’s wrists and lead them from the couch. The kid was openly crying now.

“No!” Toriel lunged, but two people rose up to stop her. Sans was closer, and he got to her before Samuelsson. As soon as he stood in front of her, she jerked to a stop. He hadn’t even raised his hand, but you could feel the hum of his magic resonating with your soul.

“Tori, you can’t… We’ll figure out a different way.” Sans shot a murderous look at Samuelsson, whose right hand was resting on his holstered gun. For the first time ever, you saw Toriel cry.

This was all wrong… You couldn’t let this happen! You’d promised. You’d _promised_ Frisk you wouldn’t let them be taken away. They were looking at you with tears streaming down their face as they were being led to the door. You had to do something…

That was when you remembered. You were human.

“Wait! _I’ll_ adopt Frisk!”

\---

End of JUSTICE


	16. Pyrrhic Victory

PART 3 - KINDNESS

\---

A brief moment of confusion washed over the humans and monsters alike. The agent whose name you didn’t know froze, her hand still around Frisk’s wrist. The child’s tears seemed to have stilled. You breathed heavily as though you’d exerted a great force. Your hands were in fists at your sides while your eyes cast around the room, daring someone to challenge you.

Of course, Reives obliged,

“That’s not… That wouldn’t solve the problem. The point is that Frisk needs to be living outside of camp with the rest of humanity-”

“I’ll move. We can… We can move to the city. As long as Frisk doesn’t end up with a stranger…” You looked at Toriel, who was staring at you with wide, hopeful eyes. It buoyed you on.

“Well?” you asked Reives challengingly, “Do you have a problem with that?”

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, then scratched his balding head. “No, I suppose not.” He had a strange grin on his face. You didn’t care to analyze what he was so happy about. Wolfe, on the other hand, did not look so pleased.

“But you have nowhere to live, no steady income, no means of transportation… No one in their right mind would give you custody of-”

“Agent Wolfe, may I speak to you outside for a moment?” Reives’ voice was polite, but his expression was hard. Wolfe conceded with a tight nod.

With that, the humans all began to file out. The three agents went first; the one who had been holding Frisk finally released them. Seeing that they were about to be left alone with you and the monsters, the two officers quickly followed them out. Through the window, you could see all five of them standing in a circle outside talking back and forth.

“You can’t be serious about this,” Sans growled darkly as soon as the front door swung shut. 

“What else are we gonna do, Sans?” you asked helplessly. This was the only option if you didn’t want Frisk to be taken away.

“You would really do this for us?” Toriel asked quietly. You turned to her and nodded.

“It’d only be for a little while. Frisk and I can find someplace to stay in the city until you and your lawyer figure out some way to bring them back-”

Toriel quickly strode over to you and cut you off with an enormous hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” she whispered over and over. Numbly, you patted her back, trying not to panic as you suffocated in a face-full of white fur.

Before anything more could be said, the front door reopened. The three agents filed back in, while the officers remained outside. Wolfe cleared her throat, and Toriel let go of you.

“You have one week to get things in order,” Wolfe said reluctantly, “You must find a paying job, a place to live outside of camp, and a car. You must get Frisk enrolled in school as soon as possible. You will be evaluated periodically to make sure you are meeting our standards.”

You nodded along to what she was saying, all while anxiety began to coil around your chest. How were you going to find all of that in a week? Wolfe fixed you with an intense stare.

“I hope you are taking this seriously. If you are doing this just to get on our nerves, it will become apparent very, very quickly. Contrary to what you may think, we, too, want the best for Frisk. If you’re not it, we’ll know.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You’d never heard Wolfe say so much at once. She sounded stern, but more genuine than Reives could ever dream of being. You stared back at her, equally determined.

“I understand.”

“Good.”

As you finished your conversation with Wolfe, the third agent kneeled down to Frisk’s level and signed something to them again. Their face was still wet with tears, but they nodded vigorously while wiping their eyes with their sleeves.

“Frisk says they’re okay with this,” the agent said while getting back to her feet. You felt stupid; you hadn’t even asked Frisk if they wanted to go with you.

“You sure, kid?” you asked, trying to make up for your oversight, “If you’d rather have the agents find a family for you, then-” They shook their head, their hair flying in their face as they did so. Suddenly, they ran up to you and hugged you around the middle. It only made you feel more lost than before.

“If that’s settled, then I suppose there’s no reason for us to stay,” Reives said, sounding oddly happy again. You still didn’t know what his deal was. “We’ll return in a week. Until then… Good luck.”

You didn’t know why you were surprised when the agents left without another word. You supposed you’d expected them to give you a little help with the whole rebuilding-your-entire-life-in-seven-days thing, but no. Did they want you to fail? Or were they really that sure you’d be able to do it on your own?

Regardless, it didn’t matter. You’d figure it out whether they wanted you to or not. Your own confidence in yourself eased a little bit of the anxiety threatening to eat you alive.

Suddenly, there was a hand on your wrist. You flinched, but it was just Sans. He’d teleported behind you, his expression hard. You could feel the hurt and anger in his soul resonating with your own.

“We need to talk.”

That was all the warning you received before he tugged you backwards. You stumbled and fell, but your fall was broken when you landed on something soft. It took you a second to realize that Sans had pulled you through a shortcut, and you’d landed on your own bed.

“Don’t do that!” you snapped. You were already near your breaking point; you didn’t need him moving you around wherever he pleased. You were even more pissed when you realized you’d dropped your cane in the process, leaving it behind at Toriel’s house.

Sans didn’t even acknowledge your irritation. He paced the length of the room, his eyes black.

“You’re not leaving.” The possessive tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. “I don’t give a fuck what’ll happen to the kid. You’re not going.”

“Sans…” you said, softer this time, “Like I said, it’s only for a little while-”

“You don’t know that!” he yelled, actually _yelled_ at you. Your breath hitched, but he wasn’t done, “This is exactly the kind of shit we wanted to avoid! You wouldn’t even leave camp to get help when you were _dying_ , and now you’re just gonna up and go? And for what? So that the kid won’t be _lonely_?”

“We need to keep an eye on Frisk. What if Chara…?”

“I don’t give a _damn_ about either of them,” he huffed more quietly, sounding out of breath. You knew he didn’t mean that, but you didn’t dare call him out. You kneaded the sheets under your hands nervously.

“I… You’re scaring me a little, Sans,” you said honestly. He flinched and abruptly stopped pacing.

“ _You’re_ scaring _me_ , kid.” When he lowered his voice, you could see that he was telling the truth. His bones shook and, when his white pupils returned, they were contracted in fear. You were caught off-guard; this wasn’t what you’d wanted. You’d just done what had felt right in your soul… You hadn’t meant to hurt Sans.

“C’mere,” you said while patting a spot on the bed next to you. Sans took a deep, ragged breath and walked over to you, hoisting himself up. He didn’t look at you, but stared blankly at the wall straight ahead. Even though you weren’t touching each other, the closer proximity still felt like a physical comfort. After a moment of silence, you started up again,

“I haven’t left yet. We can still talk about it. I didn’t… I wouldn’t leave without talking to you first.” You stared at him, silently willing him to look at you. Stubbornly, he kept his gaze fixed forward.

“Okay.”

...You waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. He was still mad, clearly. You fidgeted, shifting your weight back and forth.

“I have an idea.” You paused, but Sans didn’t prompt you onward. You pushed on anyway, “Let’s talk about it like this.” you turned your whole body toward him and placed your hand on your chest. You’d never called forth your own soul before, but it turned out to be not so different from bringing out Sans’ soul. You willed it to follow your hand out of your body, and so it did. The lavender and white clouds swirled anxiously within their heart-shaped vessel. The appearance of your soul was what finally got Sans to look at you.

“You really think that’s a good idea?” he asked skeptically, his brows raised.

“Yes. I want you to see my point of view, and I want to see yours. I don’t think we’ll be able to do that if we just talk the normal way. Plus, it’ll force us to be honest…” _And you can’t be pissed at me when we’re sharing souls,_ you thought, but didn’t say. Sans stared at you for a heartbeat, then sighed and closed his eyes.

“Alright.” He turned to you blindly. You placed a hand on his sternum and gently coaxed his soul out. It seemed to shine brighter than usual, with the white swirls desperately chasing the purple wisps around in circles. You shifted your weight, scooting closer to Sans until your souls finally collided.

A sharp intake of breath slipped through your clenched teeth as the familiar feeling of utter vulnerability caught you by surprise. You’d never get used to that. A collage of memories flashed through your joint minds in a split second. You winced as you were suddenly bombarded with all of Sans’ tumultuous emotions. He was usually the calm, steady one in your relationship… It was odd to see him _feeling_ so much.

You breathed in and out slowly, trying to counter the multiplicative anxiety from yourself and your partner. For a minute, you watched your souls interact with each other. The purple areas seemed to flush deeper, while the white of Sans’ soul dimmed to match the white in yours. You couldn’t seem to keep your eyes open for long, though, and quickly shut them tight.

 _Well?_ Sans’ voice rang in your head, _What did you want to tell me that you couldn’t say out loud?_ He sounded weakly defensive, unable to be as combative as he wanted to in a situation where you were both utterly exposed to each other.

You pictured Frisk in your mind’s eye, opting to communicate with pictures and memories like the two of you used to do when you were Orion. You relived the moment when Frisk was sitting on the floor with you, pressed up against your side. You’d said that you wouldn’t let anyone take them away… You’d made a promise.

 _You promised_ me _you wouldn’t leave,_ Sans thought, sounding hurt. Your heart ached. As the memory with Frisk continued to play, Sans echoed what he’d said before, _You shouldn’t make promises, especially ones you can’t keep._

The image shifted. You hadn’t been thinking about any moment in particular, but you ended up drawing on one of Sans’ memories. The judgment hall. A familiar child shambling toward him. The flash of a knife.

 _If I don’t go, what’s to stop that from happening again?_ Sharp fear electrified your souls, and you quickly banished the memory only to have it replaced by another unpleasant one. One of yours this time… The only time you’d spoken to Chara outside of a dream. They were sitting on the floor with crude drawings scattered around them. They smiled up at you.

Sans had no argument to that. As the memory with Chara faded, he just felt sad. The last thing he wanted was for the demon to reign over Frisk’s body again. Frisk had a track record of showing mercy to Chara by letting them have control over their body for brief periods of time. You thought you’d scared Frisk bad enough last time that they wouldn’t do it again, but you couldn’t be sure. Letting them out of your sight and allowing them to be forced into potentially stressful situations all alone was risky.

 _But I need you too much,_ Sans thought despondently, _Sometimes… I think I need you more than you need me._

Your soul surged up fiercely in opposition. That couldn’t be true! Could it? You loved him, you did, but… If you were to objectively compare Sans’ feelings to yours, was it possible that he loved you more? Feeling your despair, Sans quickly amended,

 _No, no… It’s not that I love you more, it’s that I_ need _you more. There’s a difference…_ Disjointed memories floated lazily between your minds. Visions of the unbearable agitation he felt every time you left for a meeting. The hours he stared at the clock, eyes flickering to his phone as though sheer force of will would cause you to text him. He felt pathetic. _It’s not normal…_ You _don’t feel like that every time we’re apart. Maybe something got fucked up with me when our souls separated. Maybe it’s ‘cause my soul’s smaller than yours…_ Sans opened his eyes, and you saw, from his perspective, the view of your two souls touching. His soul was, indeed, undersized. While he only had a wisp of purple in his, you’d gotten nearly half of the white essence of his soul. It wasn’t a fair trade. You’d noticed that the first time you saw your souls together, but you hadn’t thought much of it until now.

 _...It’ll only be for a little while,_ you thought desperately, _Just until Toriel, Asgore, and their lawyer figure it out. Reives and the others came by during the meeting, when they knew Asgore wouldn’t be around… That’s suspicious, right there. It can’t be lawful, what they’re doing. Hell, maybe they’ll find a way to let Frisk stay before my week to prepare is even up._

Finally, you felt Sans calm down. You could feel him coming around to what you were saying. There was still a shred of doubt, though.

_What if it takes longer than we think? Papyrus won’t be around to heal you…_

Truthfully, you hadn’t thought about that. Your healing sessions with Papyrus had become so commonplace that you hardly even thought about them anymore. You didn’t think Sans would’ve even thought to bring it up if Toriel hadn’t asked after your health earlier. 

_If it takes that long, I’ll… I’ll tell you, and you can come and get me,_ you acquiesced reluctantly. You hated the idea of Sans taking shortcuts out of camp, but you’d let him take the risk of getting caught if it meant life or death. You hadn’t been so worried about leaving camp when it had been Orion, but this was different. The humans didn’t know that Sans was capable of teleporting and, if anyone found out, he’d have to live with that for the rest of his life. The damage would be much more permanent.

With that declaration, Sans was placated. It seemed even he had forgotten that he could technically leave camp whenever he wanted. If there was truly an emergency, he could be there almost immediately. And… maybe it would be good for him to be apart from you for a little while. Maybe.

Right on cue, you heard knocking on your front door. You and Sans flinched, startled by the outside noise. You’d been so consumed in each other that it didn’t seem like any time should’ve passed at all. Sans reached up and eased your souls apart, causing a wave of nausea to spread from your head to your toes as you snapped back into your own body. Your stomach churned. 

While you recovered by sitting on the bed with your eyes closed, Sans got up to answer the door. You heard several voices speaking in urgent tones in the other room and figured you’d have to swallow the bile building up in your throat and go out to talk to them. You dragged a hand over your face and took a deep breath.

This was going to be a long week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I get some love in the comments? I need a little encouragement right about now, because this marks the start of the longest part of the fic. Strap in for a long ride, kiddos.


	17. Freedom is a Length of Rope

Everyone was so incredibly grateful for what you were doing that it was starting to make you uncomfortable.

After your chat with Sans, nearly the entire population of the camp piled into your house. You heard the whole story from every possible perspective.

Asgore and Undyne had been unaware that anything was going down until Reives and Wolfe failed to show up to the meeting. Even Charlie had apparently not known what was happening, and had been the one to suggest that the agents might be doing something shady behind their backs. 

Papyrus and Alphys had just been coming back up to the surface for a lunch break when they saw the five humans leaving Toriel’s house. Papyrus, bless his soul, even approached Samuelsson (the only human in the group he recognized) to ask if something was wrong. Hearing that Pap had spoken to a known monster-hater set Sans on edge, but Samuelsson had done nothing but give Pap a vague, curt answer. That was when Papyrus and Alphys went to Toriel’s place to ask what had happened. Eventually, everyone’s stories converged upon your house, and you were left to face the suffocating gratitude of all of your friends.

The only one who was not grateful was Papyrus. While everyone else was praising you for taking in a kid who wasn’t yours, Pap was more worried about your wellbeing.

“BUT SIBLING! HOW WILL I HEAL YOU WHEN YOU’RE SO FAR AWAY???” he wailed, scandalized that you seemingly hadn’t thought of that already.

“I’ll be fine for a little while, bro,” you said, patting his arm reassuringly, “Asgore and Toriel will figure this whole situation out before that becomes a problem, right?” The King and the former Queen looked at each other, then back at you.

“Of course we will,” Toriel said with a reassuring smile. She squeezed Frisk, who clung to her side silently.

“Human,” Asgore addressed you solemnly, “I know how much leaving camp means to you…” He glanced at Sans, knowing full well that leaving the camp wasn’t the heart of the problem, “...And for this, I will be forever in your debt. Please, do not worry about money. I will gladly give you as much gold as you need.”

With that, you took care of one of Wolfe’s conditions. The King assured you that you could continue your duties as ambassador from the phone, so that took care of the “paying job” issue. However, you still had to get your hands on a car and a place to live, and you didn’t see how you were going to get either of those things while you were still stuck in camp.

Luckily, you had other friends who were willing to help.

“Charlie?” you said blearily, rubbing your eyes, “...It’s two in the morning.” Indeed, you and Sans had been woken from a fitful sleep by incessant knocking on your front door. Your partner hovered behind you, halfway between you and the bedroom.

“Yeah I noticed,” Charlie said, his sarcastic wit somehow still alive and well even at this time of night, “Are you really adopting that Frisk kid and moving out of camp?”

“...Come in.” You stepped back, resigning yourself to talking about this yet again. Charlie at least had the decency to wait until the door closed before going off on you,

“This is the stupidest, most hare-brained idea I’ve ever heard.” He crossed his arms and stood in the middle of the room between you and Sans. “You know this is gonna set everything back, right? You’re the only human who sticks up for the monsters… If you’re not around, who’s gonna do that, huh?”

“I mean… You could,” you pointed out, and Charlie scoffed,

“Ugh, no. I’m just a fuck-up state trooper… They don’t listen to me like they do to you.” He sighed and gritted his teeth. “ _That’s_ the only reason Reives is lettin’ you do this in the first place… He knows that gettin’ you out of the way will make it easier for him to control what goes on around here.”

You were touched that Charlie cared enough about monsters to get so worked up about this but, truthfully, nothing he could’ve said would have changed your mind at that point. He seemed to sense that in your expression. His shoulders slumped, arms falling to his sides. He raised one hand to run it over his head.

“So you really care about this kid, huh?” You and Sans glanced at each other. It was rather more complicated than that, but…

“Yeah, I do.” You had to admit that you did care about Frisk, even if part of the reason you were doing this was to keep an eye on them. You may have been bad with kids, even disliked them in general, but that didn’t mean you didn’t care about this one in particular. Not only did you care about Frisk, but you cared about your other friends. Everyone here loved Frisk, and they would’ve been unhappy if the child had gone into foster care, where they’d probably never hear from them again. At least not until they were a legal adult. Toriel, you knew, would’ve been inconsolable. 

Charlie sighed. “Well, I heard about those conditions Wolfe laid down for you. The hardest one’ll be a job… Dunno how you’re gonna get one of those in a week, but-”

“I have one already. Asgore wants me to be a, uh, long-distance ambassador. He says not to worry about money.” You knew that you wouldn’t be able to do a whole lot without actually being in camp, but if Asgore was willing to pay you to confer with him over the phone… You weren’t about to say no.

“Well, that’s something. So tomorrow we should take the helicopter up to the city and do some lookin’ for cars and apartments. The pilot owes me a favor, so I’m sure I could convince him to-”

“Wait, what?” you cut Charlie off again. Did he just say what you thought he said?

“We’re taking a helicopter. To North Ebott. To get your shit together,” he spoke condescendingly slowly, but you were too shocked to be mad about it, “Unless you’ve got something more important goin’ on tomorrow?”

“N-no…” You hadn’t expected such an instantaneous offer of help. You looked at Sans, who seemed just as taken aback. 

“Good… That’s settled, then.” Charlie’s voice sounded gruffer. You weren’t sure if he was aware of how big of a favor he was doing you, but you didn’t have time to thank him for it before he was on his way out the door.

“Get some shuteye, ‘cause we’re leaving first thing tomorrow morning.” With that, he was gone. Sans, who hadn’t said anything during that whole encounter, blinked owlishly and shrugged.

“Guess you’re goin’ to Ebott City tomorrow.”

You would’ve thought you’d dreamt up the whole conversation, had you not been awoken the next morning by the sound of helicopter blades right outside your house. In a panic, you hurriedly got dressed and ran out the front door. Well, as much as you could possibly run with a cane.

“Wait.” Sans grabbed your arm as you were leaving, halting your momentum, “You’re, ah… You’re comin’ back, right?” Sweat glistened on his forehead, and you felt a cold mixture of pity and guilt. You wished he could go with you, but there was no way Reives would let him leave camp for any reason, much less to go shopping with you.

“Of course.” You took a chance and stroked the side of his skull. Quickly, so that hopefully no one would see the less than platonic affection you were showing. “This is just to get a couple things in order. We still have six days before…” You let the thought trail, and he nodded. Reluctantly, he let you go, and you flashed him a reassuring smile before turning back around toward the helicopter.

Not one, but two familiar faces were waiting for you. Charlie was there, but so was Hernandez. When he saw you looking at him, he gave you a friendly wave.

You had many questions, but the roar of the chopper precluded any conversation. Charlie made a wide circular movement with one arm, motioning for you to get in. With some difficulty, you clambered into the belly of the helicopter, feeling like you were about to go deaf from the sound. Right on cue, Hernandez hopped in after you and handed you a thick pair of headphones.

“‘Morning, sunshine!” You practically jumped out of your seat when Hernandez’s voice sounded in your ears. It seemed that the guards had gotten new headphones, now equipped with some kind of radio system so that they could talk to one another without shouting. You reached up to feel for the microphone on your headset and pulled it down in front of your face.

“What’s going on? What’re you doing here?” you asked, suspicious. Sure, you could maybe believe that you and Charlie were good enough friends for him to help you out in such a big way, but Hernandez? You hardly knew the guy. You’d exchanged words maybe once while you were in your human body, and not much more when you were Orion.

“I asked him to help us out,” Charlie explained as he climbed into the chopper. He closed the door and banged the wall loudly with his fist. At least, you assumed it was loud… With the headphones on, you couldn’t hear much other than the voices of your companions. “He’s from Ebott City, so he’ll know where to go better than I do.”

“Aw shucks, Turner. You flatter me,” Hernandez said, fluttering his eyelashes. It took you a moment to remember that Turner was Charlie’s last name. The man in question rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, you weird bastard.”

The helicopter trip was even more nerve wracking than usual since, for the first time, Sans wasn’t there with you. Instead of relying on him to calm your fear of heights, you tried to concentrate on listening to the banter between the two officers. It became clear almost immediately that the two were friends. Hernandez could hardly ever shut up, while Charlie would occasionally shoot back with a witty comment. It was a night and day difference from the tense silence whenever a big group of officers and monsters were travelling together.

Thankfully, North Ebott was closer to camp than South Ebott, so the flight didn’t last nearly as long as the others you’d been on. Still, though, you felt more than a little queasy by the time your feet were on solid ground.

Unfortunately, the terror wasn’t over when you landed. You’d touched down on top of one of the few skyscrapers in the city, which, in your opinion, wasn’t much better than flying. You swayed on your feet, resolutely staring at the ground. Irrationally, you felt that, if you looked over the edge of the building, someone would push you off.

You almost felt like your soul left your body when a hand clapped you on the back to get your attention. You looked up reluctantly and saw Charlie pointing toward the door. Eager to get inside, you limped hurriedly toward what you presumed was the stairwell.

“Jesus,” you mumbled as soon as Hernandez closed the door behind the three of you. You could not wait for the day when the road to camp was finished so you’d never have to ride on that flying death trap again. Charlie, ever unsympathetic to your fear of heights, didn’t seem to have time to let you catch your breath.

“C’mon, we’ve got a lot of work to do.” He began to descend the stairs briskly, his feet thundering on every step. You rushed after him, struggling to keep up.

As your irrational fear began to subside, you started to notice your surroundings more. You weren’t entirely sure what this building was used for, but it seemed to be some kind of office space.

“We land here all the time… This is where we load all of your supplies onto the bird,” Hernandez explained without you having to ask. The three of you exited the stairwell so Charlie could call an elevator. You were glad; you doubted you would’ve been able to walk down the stairs of the entire skyscraper.

“Isn’t it a bit of a pain to get everything all the way up here?” You inquired as you waited for the lift to get up to your level.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Hernandez answered with a vigorous nod, “That’s why all of us officers are glad there’s gonna be a road soon. I’m sure whatever the hell company owns this building will be happy when we’re not hauling crates up to their roof, too!”

The two of you continued to chat about the details of how the supply drops worked as you got into the elevator. However, conversation abruptly died when the lift stopped to let a group of office workers get on. You stood in the back stiffly, fully expecting to get stares and looks of disgust from the humans. But, to your surprise, none of them paid you any mind. Again, you’d forgotten that you weren’t a monster. One woman shot you a quizzical look, and you thought maybe she recognized you. Perhaps more people would’ve paid attention if the two officers flanking your sides weren’t dressed in civilian clothes, but, as it was, even the woman who might’ve thought you looked familiar seemed to dismiss the idea.

Still, you were tense every time the elevator doors opened and people shuffled on and off of the lift. Whenever there was a new person in your midst, you half expected them to point you out to everyone else and cause a scene. But it never happened. You just didn’t stick out as much as you thought you did. Not that you were disappointed… It was nice to only have to endure the usual double-takes you got from being disabled, as opposed to the blatant stares you’d been burdened with as Orion. 

You were relieved when the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, finally ending the awkward, cramped ride. You followed Charlie and Hernandez out into the big, open lobby, past a receptionist’s desk, and out the revolving doors. It was a struggle trying to keep up with the officers amidst all of the hustle and bustle. You were unused to the hurried pace of such a big city. While not as small as South Ebott, your hometown of Pueblo was nowhere near as populated as this place.

“So, ah… Where’re we headed?” you asked, your voice raised to combat the noise of the many conversations happening around you. The three of you walked briskly down the wide sidewalk, against the flow of most of the foot traffic.

“I’m parked just a block away. We’ll head to the car dealership first,” Charlie announced as he reached in his front pocket to pull out a pair of aviator sunglasses. You couldn’t help but to snort at the sight of them on his face. He frowned at you. “What? You got a problem with my glasses?”

“Homie, everyone’s got a problem with your glasses,” Hernandez piped up before you could speak. You laughed until you ran out of breath, Charlie glaring defiantly at you and his coworker all the while.

“Well, I’m not taking them off. They look cool as hell, I don’t care what y’all think.”

Before too long, Charlie was pointing out his car, which you suspected was parked illegally. You called shotgun and clambered into the passenger seat of the sleek, black vehicle, Hernandez grumbling as he got in behind you.

“I know a guy who’ll give us a good deal on a sweet ride, no problem,” the Hispanic officer said confidently as he leaned forward between you and Charlie. As soon as he said that, you realized a flaw in this whole scheme.

“I, uh… Don’t have any money,” you admitted, your cheeks burning. You had a bank account, but had no idea where your debit card was or what your parents had even done with the money when they’d thought you were dead. Even if you could get your hands on it, it wasn’t nearly enough for a down payment on a car. Your soulless self had burned through a lot of your savings in the two years they’d been around.

“Don’t worry about it,” Charlie said briskly, “I talked to the King and he’s taking care of it.”

“Oh…” you said, not entirely convinced. Wordlessly, Charlie dug in his back pocket to pull out a thick, white envelope. With some trepidation, you opened it. Inside was a huge wad of 100 dollar bills.

“ _Oh._ ” Your eyes widened. You’d never seen this much money in one place… How had Asgore managed to get all of this gold translated into American dollars so quickly?! You decided it was best not to ask questions. You handed the money to Charlie, but he pushed it back to you and shook his head.

“Nah, you keep it. It’s for you, anyway.”

You sat in awed silence for the rest of the trip, internally questioning every life choice that had led to this surreal moment. You were in a car with two police officers, holding more money than you had any right to be, on your way to buy a car so you could adopt someone else’s child.

Your existential crisis was cut short when you arrived at the auto dealership. Like every dealership you’d ever seen, this one had a bigger parking lot than it needed and way too many flags. Said flags flapped violently in the strong, winter wind as you and your companions got out to scour the lot.

The car shopping process was actually more fun than you’d anticipated. You’d never bought a car before; the only one you’d ever owned had been handed down to you from your dad. Technically, you still owned that car, but you had no desire to try to get it from your parents. Still, you gravitated toward vehicles that were similar to it… Specifically, small, white Hondas.

“Nah kid, you don’t want a ride like that!” Hernandez argued when he noticed your preference, “You wanna go for something that’s good for off-roading!”

“Why’s that?” you asked, amused by his enthusiasm. He gave you a quizzical look, as though you should already know.

“Well, you want it to be able to handle that road they’re building up to camp, right? That thing’s gonna be a piece of shit, I guarantee you.”

“Oh, I don’t plan on living down here for that long,” you said with a laugh, “I’m only getting this car to make Wolfe happy. I don’t think I’ll use it much.” You grew concerned when Charlie and Hernandez shot each other identical, unreadable looks. Charlie spoke up first,

“...Still, we should plan for the worst. Plus, you might want to keep the car to take trips to town once the road’s done.”

Charlie had a point there. Once the road was built, you’d have a way to leave camp at your leisure, but only if you owned a car. For that reason, you reluctantly started looking at larger, more durable vehicles. Ones that wouldn’t fail you if they had to drive up a mountain.

With the help of a car salesman (who Hernandez seemed to know somehow), you eventually settled on a shiny, cherry-red jeep. It was so the opposite of your nondescript car back home, but you found that amusing enough that it was kinda endearing. The salesman nearly fainted when you paid the entire cost of the car upfront, in cash. In no time at all, you were driving off the lot with it, feeling even more surreal than you had felt before entering the dealership.

You followed Charlie in the car ahead of you as he led you to some sandwich place to grab lunch. You were ravenously hungry, as you hadn’t had time to eat breakfast that morning and hadn’t felt well enough to eat at all last night. While you devoured your food, Charlie and Hernandez explained their plans to you.

“There’s a couple apartment buildings we could check out… I tried to find ones on the edge of town. More in the suburbs, y’know?” Hernandez pulled out his phone to show you maps of the city. “These two looked promising, I thought. They’re real close to this school system, and it’s a pretty good neighborhood… Plus, I live like, ten minutes away,” he added, sounding proud. You smiled, swallowed a big bite of food, and asked,

“Where’s that?”

Eagerly, Hernandez zoomed into a particular spot on the map. “Right there. My boyfriend and I just started renting a duplex.”

“Congrats, man,” you said sincerely. It was a little strange to think that all of the guards had lives and families outside of camp. They worked so much that they must’ve barely gotten to see their loved ones at all. Yet, still, Hernandez and Charlie were taking time out of their lives to help you. This realization made you all the more grateful.

“Thanks,” Hernandez said with a wide grin on his face, “If only the other side of the house wasn’t occupied… We could’ve been neighbors!” You snorted at the idea.

“Yeah, that would’ve been something.” 

Suddenly, your conversation was interrupted by a buzz in your pants. You jumped, startled, and hurriedly struggled to extract your phone from your pocket. The monster-designed device was so big that it barely fit. After some mildly embarrassing fumbling around, you were able to read the incoming text.

_hows it goin?_

Sans. Dammit… In all of the excitement from this morning, you’d completely forgotten to text him. You felt terrible that you hadn’t thought of him, especially after your conversation yesterday. The gnawing guilt prompted you to dutifully type out a long update about your car shopping endeavors. As you scrambled for ways to describe the car you’d gotten to someone who’d never seen a car before, Hernandez leaned over the table to interrupt,

“Texting your boyfriend?” he asked with a knowing smirk. Charlie nearly choked on his water. He set down the drink harder than necessary and slapped the other officer on the shoulder.

“Man, don’t you know how to keep your damn mouth shut?” he said, looking more exasperated and uncomfortable than angry.

So you’d been right to assume that all of the guards knew you and Sans were together. You pegged Hernandez as someone who couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, so if he knew, then surely they all did. You hesitated, then replied without looking up from your phone,

“Yup.” You went back to writing your text without further explanation. Why bother trying to deny it? It was your own fault for kissing Sans out in the open. If that meant that everyone was going to find out eventually, then so be it. Maybe the knowledge was contained to the guards for now, but you assumed it’d get to the FBI agents at some point, if it hadn’t already. And maybe they’d decide it was best to keep it a secret, or maybe they’d hold it over your head as blackmail material. If that happened, you couldn’t let it get to you. Now that you were adopting a child and moving out to a big city to live without the support of your parents for the first time… You just felt that you had bigger problems at the moment. You couldn’t worry about what people thought of your relationship status.

Hernandez hooted and laughed, and, in your periphery, you saw Charlie roll his eyes. You sent the essay-length text and promptly directed the conversation back to apartments.

Not long after, the three of you headed off to the first potential apartment, riding in two separate cars again. Hernandez decided he wanted to ride with you this time, and you were afraid he’d bring up the boyfriend thing again. Sure enough, it was not even two minutes into the ride before your fears became a reality.

“Hey, by the way… I’m not judging you guys or anything. I just think it’s funny how these things happen, you know?” He smiled at you reassuringly, and you hummed in noncommittal agreement. It hadn’t really been something that just “happened” in your case, but you obviously couldn’t go into detail. Hernandez continued,

“I get it, though… I mean, I kinda get it. Not really. But, being with a man, you know… I get the judgment. So, uh… It’s all cool by me, if you get what I’m sayin’.”

You cracked a smile at that. Privately, you thought that a cross-species relationship was really not all that comparable to a same-sex relationship between two humans, but perhaps there were some similarities that could be drawn. Regardless of what you thought, you supposed you were glad that Hernandez could at least empathize in his own way.

“Thanks,” you said simply. The officer’s expression brightened.

“And Turner, he’ll come around. He’d not super comfortable with it, but he wasn’t real accepting of me at first, either. But he’s come around to me, so he’ll come around to you, too.”

You didn’t know how Hernandez could be so confident, but you nodded along anyway. You weren’t too concerned about Charlie since, even if he wasn’t comfortable with your choice in partner, he didn’t seem to be acting any differently around you than he had before he knew about you and Sans. Still, you were surprised and perplexed by Hernandez’s general faith in people. It reminded you of a certain skeleton. You smiled.

“If you say so.”

It seemed Hernandez was finally done talking about it, since he spent the rest of the drive debating with you about the merits of each of the two apartments you were going to see. They were both one bathroom and two bedrooms; a necessity, since you were pretty sure one of the requirements for adopting a kid was that they had to have their own room. One of them was closer to the school Frisk would be going to, while the other was more spacious.

You looked at the bigger one first, then took a short drive to check out the second apartment. Each of the landlords gave you an extensive tour, which Charlie and Hernandez seemed more interested in than you were. As with the car, you didn’t anticipate having to use the apartment much. In fact, after today, you may not ever see it again. You ended up choosing the second apartment solely because it was cheaper. Both places wanted you to pay the first month’s rent upfront, and you didn’t want to waste more of Asgore’s money than necessary. Hernandez approved of your decision to go with the more prime location, and Charlie didn’t seem to care either way. Without much fuss, you paid the landlord his money, got your key, and were on your way.

You left your jeep in the apartment complex’s parking lot, instead riding in the back of Charlie’s vehicle as you struggled to get your new house key on your car’s key ring. Your phone buzzed several times in your lap; you’d been texting Sans all afternoon, keeping him updated with pictures of the apartments. You gave up on the key situation, opting instead to text Sans back.

_On my way home now. I’ll probably be back in an hour or so._

You yawned and rested your chin on the handle of the cane between your legs. All of the walking and cramped car rides were making your artificial joints ache. You just wanted to get back to your real home and lay in bed with Sans.

To prevent fear from seizing your body as you boarded the helicopter once more, you thought about what you would do once you touched down on the dirt road of camp. You were sure Sans would be waiting for you outside, and maybe you’d go over to Toriel’s house together. It’d be dinner time, and Tori always made extra food in case guests decided to pay a visit. Then, after a nice, filling meal, you’d go home and take a hot shower. Well, the water in camp didn’t get very hot, but you could dream. Hell, while you were dreaming, maybe you’d ask Sans if he wanted to shower with you. You’d considered suggesting it before, but didn’t want to make him uncomfortable in case he took it to mean something more than it was. But, then again, maybe it was silly to worry about that. He’d most likely be able to tell your intentions and, if he didn’t, you could always just explain outright that all you wanted to do was get him to wash your back for you. Regardless of whether you ended up alone or with Sans, after your shower the two of you would finally be able to go to bed and get the sleep you so desperately needed.

Thinking about all of the pleasant things you were going to do gave you the courage to look out the window to your right as the helicopter flew up the mountain. You were glad you did… The view of the cityscape framed by the sunset took your breath away. The buildings glimmered and appeared to glow in the soft, orange light. The skyscrapers cast long shadows over the smaller buildings, shrouding them and every human within in darkness.

As the helicopter gained altitude, your view of the city widened. You could see tiny cars on the freeway, their windows flashing bright as the light hit them just right. The winding road disappeared in the trees, but you assumed it ran South along the base of the mountain until it got all the way to Little Ebott. You looked further down and caught another glimpse of the highway as it passed by Lake Carter. If you squinted, you could just make out the other side of the lake and the little alcove where Orion had once stood, looking up at the stars…

As you strained to make out various landmarks, you stomach rolled, reminding you of your fear. You quickly looked away and went back to thinking your happy thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the nice comments on the last chapter! <3
> 
> This one was fun to write. I like having the occasional chapter featuring the human guards... Charlie's been the only important one for a while, but they all become more relevant in part 3 than they've been in the past.


	18. The Misfits of Mount Ebott

Your week-long grace period came and went, and with it, the hope that you wouldn’t have to leave camp after all. As promised, Toriel’s state-assigned lawyer came to visit the very same day that you secured your car and apartment. They arrived in a helicopter right as you got back; your pilot had to circle around camp a few times until the other chopper had safely landed. Instead of doing all of the pleasant things you had planned upon your return, you and Sans ended up in Toriel’s living room to discuss the legality of Frisk’s change in guardianship.

A lot of what the lawyer said went way over your head, which was frustrating. You, Toriel, and Sans shared a lot of confused looks as you tried to decipher the legal jargon that was being thrown at you. The lawyer looked young, and you suspected they were fresh out of law school. You couldn’t tell if they were making it more complicated than it needed to be because they had some kind of malicious intent, or if they just didn’t have the experience yet to be able to simplify what they were saying.

In the end, though, you surmised that the situation wasn’t great. Toriel never had custody of Frisk to begin with. In fact, in the eyes of the law, she’d technically abducted the kid. Reives was perfectly within his rights to call a hearing to have Frisk removed and, since Toriel couldn’t have possibly attended the hearing, it already looked bad on her part. Her lawyer had apparently been speaking on her behalf for months, and who really knew what they’d been saying. The lawyer seemed to already have given up on persuading the court to give custody of Frisk to Toriel, and instead focused more on your impending adoption.

“Actually, you will simply be obtaining legal guardianship,” the lawyer corrected you, pushing up their glasses as they spoke, “Much quicker and easier than adoption. However, since the biological parents are not in the picture, you will be taking on all of the responsibilities of a parent. And the bio parents could still remove Frisk from your care, if they ever were to step forward.”

You didn’t like the sound of that, but the lawyer seemed insistent that adoption was impractical. Besides, you selfishly liked the term “legal guardian” better than “adoptive parent.” It implied much less permanence... You were really hoping for this to be a temporary solution.

There were several forms you had to sign to petition to be a guardian, and all of them had been provided to you by Toriel’s lawyer in a glossy, white folder. They’d already filled out everything except your signature, so all you had to do was sign on the dotted lines. You sent up a silent prayer that the lawyer had filled them all out with your and Frisk’s best interests in mind, because there was no way you were going to understand any of this stuff even if you did read it all thoroughly. Your parents had taught you never to sign anything without reading it first, but you didn’t have much of a choice in the matter at this stage.

Once all of the legal hoops had been jumped through, the lawyer promptly left with your signed forms. They paused only long enough to reassure you that there shouldn’t be any trouble getting the judge to grant your request, then left you with an exhausted skeleton, a goat mom who was close to tears, and a kid who was upset enough that they hadn’t even come out of their room to investigate what was going on. 

Needless to say, it was not as relaxing of an evening as you’d been hoping to have.

The rest of the week sped by faster than it had any right to. Your time was filled with tense conversations and increasingly fervent plan-making. The likelihood that you’d get out of this situation without having to leave camp plummeted with each passing day, and you had to get your ducks in a row before you were sent packing.

“Some of the officers have kindly agreed to deliver your weekly payment while you are gone,” Asgore informed you one morning over tea, “Do you think you have enough money left in the envelop to last you until then?”

Your heart lurched at the implication that you might be gone long enough for that to be a problem. Sans’ hand squeezed your knee a little too hard, and you winced. He loosened his grip immediately, his face tightening into an apologetic grimace. Ever since you got back from the city, it seemed like he was constantly touching you in some way. Admittedly, you were no better. The way the two of you clung to each other now reminded you of how you’d been in those first initial days after the soul separation. 

“I-I think so,” you said, your stutter betraying how overwhelmed you felt by all of this. How long did Asgore expect you to be gone? You were too afraid to ask him. Instead, you changed the subject, “Um, you’ve been talking to the officers, I take it?”

“It is more like they have been talking to me.” Asgore chuckled heartily. “They seem rather invested in your well being, and Frisk’s as well. It is nice to know that they care about the people they are charged with guarding.”

You recalled something that Alphys had once said in the game. How, once you spent a long time watching someone, you couldn’t help but to root for them. 

That became one of the few times you smiled all week.

You certainly weren’t smiling on day six. You spent much of the day before your departure packing up all of your things, struggling to decide what should stay with Sans and what you wanted to take with you. You managed to keep it together while sorting through your wardrobe, which the two of you basically shared at this point. You wore each other’s clothes so often that there was barely any reason to distinguish between whose was whose. After much painful deliberation, you packed up a couple of moving boxes with what was essentially everything that had been sent to you by your parents. You left the textbooks at home, of course; they meant more to Sans than they did to you. On a whim, you left one of your shirts behind, too. You hung the skeleton t-shirt in the back of the closet, hoping that Sans would find it days later and be reminded of you.

You surpassed your own expectations by not crying during that whole ordeal. However, for some reason, you couldn’t keep yourself from shedding tears as you cradled a Rubik’s cube in your hands.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Sans asked in a soft voice, poking his head into the bedroom the moment he heard your distress. He’d been giving you a little space while you packed, but you suspected he’d been hovering on the other side of the door the whole time. It seemed you were right.

“It’s s-stupid…” You sniffed and plunked your ass on the floor. You’d been kneeling when you found the cube in the drawer of your nightstand, and it was already starting to hurt your knees. You hadn’t been healed by Papyrus in a few days, wanting to save it until the last moment before you left. The consequence was that now, when you needed your mental and physical strength the most, everything was terribly sore. You felt pathetic.

“Whatever it is, it’s not stupid.” Slowly, Sans sat down next to you and put an arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his chest. You gladly turned to nuzzle against him, but it only made you sadder to know that you wouldn’t have much longer to do stuff like this.

“This is the cube P-Papyrus and I sh-share…” you hiccupped, clutching the cube harder in your hand, “I d-don’t know whether to take it or l-leave it with him…” Really, you should just stop being selfish and leave it with Pap. But it was one of the few things you had from the last timeline. It reminded you of all of the times Papyrus made you solve it over and over again, just because you mentioned that you’d wanted to enter Rubik’s cube solving contest once. Papyrus believed in you so much that he insisted on training you, even though he was objectively better at the puzzle and had way more natural talent than you. And then, there was that time you’d been locked in the shed and he brought the cube to you as a peace offering. And then that time when you finally managed to solve it in under a minute, the day before you died… 

Papyrus didn’t remember any of that…

You found yourself quickly descending into a confusing spiral of agony. Thinking about that past version of Papyrus made you wonder if those timelines still existed somewhere. Did they continue on without you? Did that Papyrus still exist? Did he ever figure out what had happened to you and his brother? Did he find the bloodstains next to the barrier?

You buried your face into Sans’ shirt, not even really knowing why you were crying anymore. Everything was just terrible. He stroked your back soothingly, though you could feel his hand trembling a little. You being upset made him upset, and you wished you could stop. You’d been doing such a good job of being strong so far… What went wrong?

“I d-don’t... w-wanna... leave…” you managed to get out between choked gasps. You made noises somewhere between sobbing and hyperventilating, and you honestly started to scare yourself. Sans clutched you tighter.

“Shhh, try to breathe more slowly.” Easy for him to say. You were seeing spots, and your chest was starting to hurt. When it was apparent that mind over matter wasn’t working, you dropped the Rubik’s cube and cupped both hands firmly over your mouth and nose. It didn’t help at first but, as you started to breathe in more carbon dioxide than oxygen, your body was forced to slow down.

As the issue resolved itself, you began to notice that Sans was shaking almost as bad as you. Guilt instantly constricted in your chest; you hated that you’d frightened him.

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you slowly lowered your hands from your face. Minutes stretched on in total silence. You felt Sans’ quivering ribs rising and falling slowly as he worked to control his own breathing. Your heart rate came down to a manageable level, and you eventually stopped feeling like you were going to pass out. Once everything calmed down again, Sans turned to hug you more fully.

“You’ve got nothin’ to worry about, sugar… You’ll be back home in no time. And, if anything ever goes even remotely wrong, you know I’m just a shortcut away.” It seemed odd that Sans was the one comforting you. You had assumed you’d have to be the strong one today and tomorrow, what with that whole breakdown last week. But it was nice to know that he had your back when you needed it, too.

You spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms. Screw packing… What was left could wait until the morning. Shyly, you brought up that showering idea you’d had before, and Sans was more than amenable to it. Being cramped in the small shower together was both hilariously awkward and relaxing, especially when Sans insisted on massaging your shoulders under the warm water. He kept accidentally knocking his elbow into the wall and cursing, making you snerk with laughter. But, at the same time, the blissful feeling of his phalanges working out the knots in your shoulders was like heaven. Massages from squishy, human fingers just didn’t compare.

After that… You shared souls for the last time. Well, of course it wasn’t the last time. You didn’t know if you could bare it if that was the case. It was both beautiful and terrible, trying to enjoy the feeling of wholeness while desperately ignoring the looming fact that you had no idea when you’d be able to do this again. You and Sans had a dreamless night, your minds too wrapped up in trying to preserve this feeling to even come up with a nightmare to taint it with.

The next morning, you finally finished packing, right after getting healed one more time by Papyrus. You decided to leave the cube with him… After all, you still had the one from your childhood that your parents had sent to you. It would’ve been silly to take two, and you didn’t really need the memento, anyway. After Papyrus healed you, he made you promise him that you’d practice it more while you were away. You took the promise seriously; this version of Pap had never seen you solve it in under a minute, and you now felt a strong desire to recreate that moment. So it was with a bitter smile that you packed your childhood toy in one of the boxes.

The last thing left to consider was the laptop. You didn’t even think about it until you were on your way out the door, Sans following behind you as he carried the moving boxes with his magic. You stopped abruptly, and the corner of a box bumped you in the back.

“Sorry… What’s up?” Sans asked, his voice strained. You’d both been on edge all morning.

“The computer…” you said, trailing off as you looked back over your shoulder. It was still in Orion’s room; the one room in your house that no one ever used. Technically, that computer was yours, but you were conflicted on whether or not to take it with you. On one hand, it’d be nice to have… Once you were in the city, you’d finally be able to use the internet again. But that laptop held a dangerous power, and the thought of moving it around made you feel uneasy.

“Leave it,” Sans ordered gruffly, “I don’t want it in the same house as that kid.” Right. You hadn’t even thought about Chara. To this day, the demon child still didn’t know about the game, but it was safer to keep it far away from them just in case. Bringing it with you to the apartment you were going to share, inviting in the possibility of them seeing the little heart icon on your desktop… It was far too risky.

You nodded resolutely and kept walking. You tried not to think about how this was the last time you’d see this place for a while. The last time you’d see the inside of your house, the last time you’d see the snow-covered road…

The last time you’d see Sans.

Reives, Frisk, and Toriel were the only ones waiting for you next to the helicopter. You’d said your goodbyes to everyone else yesterday, assuring them that you’d be back before they had time to miss you. The pilot had bothered to turn off the helicopter blades, which made the surroundings eerily quiet. 

“Hi Frisk,” you said, feeling a little awkward. You had barely even seen the kid since last week, you’d been so busy getting your own things in order. They looked glum, for obvious reasons. They clung to Toriel’s arm with one hand, but shyly wiggled their fingers at you with the other.

“Here,” Reives interrupted, handing a folder out to you. You took it with your free hand and realized it was the same folder the lawyer had been using before. “These are all of the papers solidifying your legal guardianship. Don’t lose them.”

You nodded, ignoring the implication that you were too irresponsible to keep track of the papers. You were too stressed to think of some kind of comeback. Instead, you flipped through the documents briefly, even though you didn’t really know what most of them meant. Reives watched you, then continued,

“Right. Well, let’s get going. We don’t have all day.” With that, he climbed up into the helicopter. You bit your lip, then turned around to face Toriel, who wasn’t paying attention to you. She hefted Frisk onto her hip and closed her eyes as she hugged them tight. She whispered something to the kid, which you couldn’t hear over the child’s sniffling. It was too intimate a moment to interrupt, so you looked back at Sans. However, he wasn’t looking at you, either. He was working on hefting both your and Frisk’s luggage onto the plane. You walked up to him and touched his shoulder.

“Hey. You gonna say goodbye, or what?” you tried to tease him, but your voice sounded more tense than you meant it to. His shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep breath before looking back at you.

“Nah. Goodbyes ain’t really my thing.” He shrugged, his smile forced. You watched him haul the last box onto the helicopter.

“Well… I’ll be back soon. Maybe even tomorrow. Who knows.” You scuffed your toe on the ground, grinding a divot into the snow. Finally, Sans had nothing left to procrastinate with. He turned to face you fully.

“Yeah, maybe. You got your phone? Money?” He touched your arm, his brows furrowed. You nodded.

“Yup, all in the boxes,” You glanced over his shoulder at Reives, who was rearranging the luggage so that it wouldn’t go tumbling all over the place during the flight. You so badly wanted to kiss Sans goodbye, but you settled for a hug.

There were no words exchanged as the two of you wrapped your arms around each other. It lasted a little too long for two people who were supposedly just friends, but Reives wasn’t really paying attention, anyway. You would’ve stayed like that forever, but Sans eventually broke it off. He held you out at arm’s length and forced another smile.

“Take care of yourselves… Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He looked down and winked. You followed his gaze and found that Frisk had come to stand at your side. They’d been so quiet that you hadn’t even noticed them.

“Psh, whatever.” You shrugged his hands off of you and held your own hand out to Frisk. “Ready, kiddo?” They wiped their sleeve over their eyes before taking your hand, nodding determinedly. You didn’t think you’d ever held a child’s hand before… It felt far too small in your own.

“Be good… Both of you,” Toriel addressed you both, and you echoed Frisk’s nod.

“See you soon.”

With that, it was time to board the helicopter. Sans helped Frisk up, then you. Reives hovered nearby, as though wondering if he should offer a hand or not. You were glad he didn’t, though… You didn’t think you would’ve taken it. You scrambled to your feet and looked down at Sans one more time. The helicopter blades were starting up, so it was too loud for you to say anything. You simply stared at each other for a minute until Reives started yelling at you to shut the door. You yanked it hard. It slammed shut, cutting you off from Sans with finality.

As you took a seat next to Frisk and accepted a headset from Reives, you chastised yourself for being too dramatic. You were making this a bigger deal than it had to be. You were just going away for a little while… That was what you kept telling everyone, and that was how it had to be. You looked over at Frisk and wondered what you’d do if this went on for too long. What if Toriel and Asgore couldn’t figure out a way to keep Frisk in, say, two weeks? That was about how long you’d lasted without being healed the first time. 

You’d just have to deal with that if it happened. Right now, you figured you had bigger problems. Namely, the now-familiar fear that gripped your chest as the helicopter left the ground. Frisk leaned toward you, making you think at first that they were trying to comfort you. However, they weren’t looking at you, but at the window on your right. They waved, presumably to Toriel and Sans. You, on the other hand, couldn’t bring yourself to look out the window.

Frisk seemed completely unafraid during the entire helicopter ride, which made you feel a little stupid for still being scared despite having ridden in one several times now. You had nothing else to take your mind off of it, either; there was dead silence in the helicopter, and thinking about what was going to happen when you landed was more anxiety-inducing than being thousands of feet in the air. You ended up bouncing your feet uncontrollably, your heels thudding on the floor of the helicopter while your eyes cast nervously around the cabin.

After a long, stressful ride in which you tried desperately not to think of anything, you finally landed on top of the same building that you, Hernandez, and Charlie had used less than a week ago. This time, however, the tone was much different. The pilot of the plane, who you’d never actually seen before now, stepped out to help carry your boxes. It was awkward, with you only having one free hand and Frisk being too small to carry much, but you managed to get all of the luggage down in one trip. On the silent elevator ride down, you anxiously wondered if you should say something to Frisk, or hold their hand, or do _something_. But you couldn’t think of anything that would help. You clenched and unclenched your fingers around your cane, your eyes fixed on the floor for the entire descent.

“I’ll drive you to wherever you need to be,” Reives finally spoke during a rare moment where the four of you were alone in the elevator. He shifted the boxes in his arms, grimacing at the weight. “You know your address, right?”

“Yeah,” you affirmed curtly. You didn’t really feel great about relying on Reives to drive you anywhere, but you supposed you didn’t have much of a choice. Perhaps you should’ve been grateful that the agent was even bothering to help you at all. Maybe that was why it was so disturbing; Reives was never helpful in any sense of the word. It was out of character.

There was a small relief in tension when you finally made it to the agent’s car. You were amused to see that Reives drove an old, beat-up station wagon. It was so surprising that you were sure there was some kind of mistake until the agent unlocked the trunk and dropped the boxes in. You smiled ruefully, but said nothing. You looked down at Frisk, but they didn’t seem at all fazed by a rich FBI agent driving a piece of junk. Kids probably didn’t notice things like that.

After a moment of hesitation, you decided to sit in the back with Frisk. You didn’t want to invite conversation by sitting next to Reives, and you were confident you could trust Frisk not to be in any mood to talk at the moment. As you watched the city pass you by out the window, the full weight of what you were doing started to slowly sink in. You were basically a single parent now. As the thought crossed your mind, you clutched the folder in your hand tightly. Not a parent, but a guardian. You had yet to figure out what that would really mean. You glanced nervously at the kid you were supposed to be “guarding.” What did they expect of you? Currently, they were staring at the back of Reives’ balding head, their eyes glassy and oddly blank. You sighed softly and went back to looking out the window.

The painfully awkward moving process finally ended when Reives pulled up to your building. 

“We’re here,” you said to Frisk, as though that wasn’t obvious. They nodded and hopped out of the car. Only then did you realize that they hadn’t had their seatbelt on the whole time.

Some guardian you were.

You clambered out after them, struggling to keep a hold on the folder and your cane as you pulled yourself out of the car. By the time you got to your feet, Reives had already started unloading the trunk. After taking out the last box and shutting the door of the trunk, he turned to you and asked reluctantly,

“Do you need help carrying things in?”

You wrinkled your nose in distaste. If you hadn’t wanted Reives to drive you to the outside of your apartment building, then you certainly didn’t want him walking you inside.

“No, thanks. I think we’ve got it.” He didn’t ask any further questions. You figured he wanted to get out of there just as much as you wanted him gone.

“Well... Someone will be around to do an inspection sometime this week. You will not be notified ahead of time.” He smirked. “Good luck.”

With that, he was gone. You watched him, fuming with a mixture of emotions that you couldn’t name, as he got back in his rusty car and drove off.

“Dick,” you muttered under your breath, but jumped in surprise when you felt a hand tugging at your sleeve. It was Frisk, of course. They stared at you imploringly, then pointed to the boxes.

“Oh. Yeah, let’s get those inside. Um...” You hesitated. You were beginning to realize a problem here. You were in no physical shape to lift any boxes, and Frisk was too small to do it themself. You bit your lip, then had an idea. “Here, let’s push them. Like this.” You bent down to lean over a box, placing your hands on it while resting your cane and the folder on top. “We can make it a race!” You smiled, desperately hoping Frisk would take the bait. Thankfully, they smiled back and leaned over one of their own, smaller boxes.

“Ready... Set... Go!” The two of you pushed off, your boxes scraping obnoxiously on the pavement as you raced to the front door. Luckily, the building was pretty modern and had a wheelchair ramp leading up to the threshold. There was no one around to judge you as you burst into the lobby and came to a sudden stop at the elevator. You quickly smashed the “up” button.

“Too bad, kid,” you panted triumphantly, your chest heaving. Frisk huffed, and it occurred to you that maybe you should’ve let them win. Oh well... Losing built character, right?

You only had to race one more time to get all of your luggage up to your second floor apartment. This time, your box got stuck on a pothole, so you didn’t even have to pretend to lose. You’d thought that the whole racing idea had gone over well, but the flushed smile was immediately wiped off of Frisk’s face when you showed them around the apartment.

“...And here’s your room,” you said as you opened the door. You’d decided to give Frisk the bigger room at the end of the hallway. This one had a desk, and you knew they liked to color. You didn’t really need the extra space, anyway.

They stood in the middle of the room and looked around solemnly. Systematically, they began to search the room, though for what, you had no idea. They looked in the closet, the desk drawers, and even under the bed.

“Um... I’ll leave you to it,” you said, slowly closing the door until it was only open a crack. You let out the breath you’d been holding and shook your head.

As you unpacked your own stuff, you grew unnerved by how quiet Frisk was being. They came out of their room only once to drag their boxes in, then softly shut the door behind them. If you pressed your ear up against the wall your rooms shared, you could just barely hear them shuffling around in there. Shouldn’t nine year old kids be more annoying than this? You knew, of course, that Frisk didn’t talk, but it had never bothered you before now. You had to resist the compulsive urge to check up on them. You didn’t think they’d appreciate you barging into their room every five minutes.

While unpacking your clothes, something at the very bottom of the box distracted you from worrying about Frisk. It was blue and crumpled up... All of the other clothes you’d packed were folded neatly. You held it up to the light, then let out a choked half-laugh, half-sob when you recognized it.

It was Sans’ blue hoodie. The original one... The only possession he still had from the last timeline. He must’ve snuck it into the box when you weren’t looking. You turned it over and saw that the blood that used to stain it had been meticulously washed off. Even the tears in the back had been fixed. You rubbed your fingers over the sloppy stitches, wondering how long that had taken him and, more importantly, how in the world he’d managed to hide it from you.

You buried your face in the fabric and inhaled his scent. It immediately relaxed you. You ran your fingers over the thread again, picturing his hands fumbling over the needle as he tried to restore the hoodie back to its former glory. He must’ve looked concentrated... That one expression where his perma-smile slipped a little and his brow furrowed in thought. He always looked like a dork when he did that. But a cute dork.

You set the hoodie down on your lap and reached into the other box you’d packed. You pulled out your phone, confused for a moment when you couldn’t find Sans’ name. A flash of panic struck you - had you lost his number somehow? The fear quickly changed to amusement when you found a contact named “numbskull.” He must’ve changed it on you before you left.

 _Thanks for the sweater,_ you texted him, and received an almost immediate response,

_thanks for the shirt._

The two of you texted back and forth for the rest of the morning, which slowed down your unpacking process considerably. By the time you finished, your stomach was growling. You realized then that you had no food in the house.

“Frisk?” You called softly, tapping on their door with the handle of your cane. For a moment, you thought they might not open it. You were relieved when they eventually did. You looked over their head to see that they’d been busy; drawings that they must’ve brought from home were taped on the walls, and their coloring supplies were spread out on the desk. You forced yourself to tear your eyes away from the artwork and looked back down at the kid.

“I was going to make a trip to the grocery store. You wanna come?”

They shook their head no. You’d been both hoping and dreading they’d say that. On one hand, you didn’t want to suffer through an awkward grocery store trip with a child. You didn’t know how to handle kids... What if they threw a fit at the store, like you’d seen other children do? On the other hand, you felt uneasy leaving them home alone. Were they old enough to be left unsupervised? You honestly had no idea what the protocol for that was. 

You hovered at the door, then decided to just ask them.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay being alone?”

They nodded decisively, and you figured that settled it. You weren’t going to force them to go with you, after all. It’d probably be fine.

“Okay, well, I’ll be back soon-ish. Is there anything you want me to pick up?”

Frisk held up a finger, then ran back into their room. You waited patiently while they grabbed a colored pencil and their notepad. They jotted something down, then ripped the paper out and handed it to you. You read it out loud,

“Pie...?” You grinned. “Sure, kid.”

They smiled back at you, then waved and promptly closed the door in your face. You blinked, then raised your brows.

“Okay. Pie, I guess,” you muttered to yourself before walking away and grabbing the keys off of the counter. You dug out one of the hundred dollar bills from the envelop of money before leaving, making sure to lock the door behind yourself.

As you walked from your apartment to your new car, you were hyper aware of how alone you were. There was always someone nearby in the camp; you rarely ever got more than a moment to yourself. How had you not gone crazy from the lack of alone time?

Not that you were particularly enjoying the time now that you had it. Everything felt just a little off. The unfamiliar sound of the jeep’s engine revving to life made you flinch, and you spent too long trying to adjust your seat to a comfortable position before giving up. Your heart thumped too strongly in your chest, so you rested your head on the steering wheel for a moment to collect yourself.

It was only then that you realized you had no idea where to find a grocery store. You didn’t have a phone with GPS, either. Or a computer to go on the internet to look it up. Having grown up in the privileged position where those were both a given, you’d never faced a situation like this before.

You stared dumbly at the full fuel meter for a minute. You remembered passing a commercial area on the way here... There had to be a grocery store there, right? You realized, then, that you were wasting gas by just sitting there. You fumbled with the gear shift and, as you carefully pulled out of the parking lot, you told yourself that you’d just have to figure it out.

“Figuring it out” ended up entailing driving around for a while, scanning the side of the road for a grocery store to magically pop out at you. You tried to turn the radio on at some point, your shaking hands struggling to turn the knob that changed the channel. However, this only ramped up your anxiety when you couldn’t find any stations that were familiar to you. This ended up just distracting you from your search, so you quickly turned the radio off and sat in unnerving silence the rest of the way.

Blessedly, you did manage to find a grocery store chain you recognized. The parking lot was practically dead, which seemed logical. It was a Tuesday afternoon, after all. Most people were at work or school, not looking to buy food to fill an empty kitchen to feed a kid they just adopted that morning.

 _I didn’t adopt anyone,_ you reminded yourself studiously as you grabbed a cart, _Just obtained legal guardianship. There’s a difference._

...The wheel was squeaky, but you didn’t get a different one because there was someone behind you getting a cart of their own. And, sure, you could’ve grabbed one from another row, but you didn’t want to seem like you cared that much about a dumb wheel. Even as it grated against your frayed nerves, you couldn’t bare to spend more time in the too-hot store entrance with this stranger than was absolutely necessary.

As soon as you walked into the store through the automatic doors with your squeaky cart, everything felt very off. Not that things hadn’t been feeling off the whole morning, but now you felt especially weird to the point where it could no longer be ignored. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. Perhaps it was the harsh lighting of the store, making everything look fake. Or the people passing you by as you stood in the middle of the aisle. Like they thought all of this was totally normal and you were the only one who knew it wasn’t. You felt like telling them, but you had enough sense left to realize that would be weird.

When the stranger from before passed you by (with a distinctly not-squeaky cart, you couldn’t help but to notice), you knew that you had to get moving. The desire not to look suspicious was all that drove you to continue on. Slowly, you lifted your cane and put it in the cart, wincing at the too-loud clang of metal on metal. You leaned on the cart’s handle instead and tried hard to make your footsteps quieter as you walked through the produce section. It was no use, anyway, since the wailing wheel of your cart alerted everyone in the vicinity to your approach.

There were not many people in the store, but you felt like they were all staring at you. Realistically, you knew this wasn’t true, but you couldn’t help thinking it. The unreality of the situation made you paranoid. Sans had felt this way before, so you had some secondhand basis for what you were experiencing. But knowing vaguely that there was something wrong with you didn’t change the fact that there was something wrong.

After some indeterminate amount of time, you found yourself in the frozen foods aisle. You’d walked through the whole store without putting anything in your cart, and now you were starting at an array of TV dinners as though seeing them for the first time. There was just _so much food._ Maybe that was the problem. You hadn’t been in a grocery store for months; you’d forgotten how many options there were. Too many, really. No one person could be expected to deal with this many choices. 

You almost peed yourself when a hand suddenly touched your shoulder. If you’d had your cane in hand, you were sure you would’ve walloped whoever had touched you. As it was, you merely whirled around, your back hitting the freezer door as you jumped. You were faced with nothing less than your greatest nightmare... A middle-aged woman.

“I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to scare you, but it looks like you’re having a little trouble...?” She smiled uncertainly. Perhaps middle-aged had been an overestimate. She was definitely older than you, but probably only in her thirties. She almost looked like a younger version of your mother. But, then again, maybe you were projecting a little. 

You stared at her for too long, then started spouting nonsense to compensate,

“Oh, um, yeah... There’s just so many, and I’m not really sure...?” You waved your hand in a vague gesture. The woman carefully slipped past you to open the freezer door. You moved your cart to get out of the way.

“Here, try this. Kids like these.” She handed you some kind of frozen chicken thing. It had fun, vibrant colors on the box. You took it and put it in your otherwise empty cart.

“Thanks...” Suddenly, something registered with you. Your eyes widened. “Hey, how’d you know I have a kid? Do you know me?”

Her smile grew, and she put one hand on her hip in a more relaxed position. “Oh, yeah. You’re on the news all the time. It’s kind of annoying, actually.”

You could almost physically feel the absurdity of this pulling you back into reality. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but the thing that was the most abnormal was what finally made the completely commonplace grocery store feel real to you. 

“Sorry,” you said, unsure how else to respond. She laughed,

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s annoying for you, too!” You didn’t know how to say that, actually, you couldn’t have been annoyed because you’d had no idea. You supposed you knew on some level that people had been talking about you, but was it really that much? Now you were curious. Maybe you should buy a TV and watch the news now that you had access to cable. But you had to finish grocery shopping before you could do that.

“So, any other recommendations?” you asked, and listened intently as the lady rambled on about what easy meals your nine-year-old might like. She seemed eager to help, and you gratefully took advantage of it.

“You remind me of my little brother,” she said as she walked you over to the soup aisle, “He’s always wandering around stores like he doesn’t know what’s going on... No offense.”

“Nah, you’re not wrong,” you admitted.

“I keep telling him he should make a list. You should consider doing that too, you know!”

“Oh, I have a list,” you said sarcastically before reaching in your pocket and pulling out the piece of paper with nothing but “pie” written on it in green colored pencil. The helpful stranger howled with laughter, and you thought maybe you were okay now.

After going backwards through the store to get everything you needed (and several things you probably didn’t), you were ready to pay for your items. You thanked the lady profusely for her help, but she waved your gratitude off before leaving you in the checkout line to finish her own shopping. You kind of regretted not asking for her name, but maybe it was better like this. It felt more pure to never know.

Once you loaded your car up, you were determined to find a radio station that was to your liking. The dulcet tones of alternative rock ironically put you at ease. If there was ever a time to blast angsty, early 2000s Linkin Park, it was now. You screamed along to the music, then laughed at yourself and the absurdity of this whole day. All in the course of one morning, you flew in a helicopter, moved into an apartment, took legal guardianship over a child, and dissociated in the middle of a grocery store. And who knew what the hell was going to happen this afternoon?

Your laughter turned into crying, which turned back into singing along to the radio, which turned into laughing again. Before you could circle back around to crying, you spotted an electronics store on the side of the road. Remembering that you’d wanted to buy a TV, you quickly swerved into the parking lot. You picked out the cheapest one they had and paid for it with the rest of that hundred dollars you’d taken for the groceries. 

The struggle of trying to fit the TV into the car in a position where you wouldn’t worry about it tipping over sobered you up somewhat. You were far less emotional by the time you left the parking lot. You kept the radio on, but turned the volume down to a more reasonable level while you concentrated on remembering how to get back to the apartment.

Of course you got lost. You hadn’t paid enough attention to where you were going on the way to the store; you’d been too focused on finding it to begin with. And then stopping to get the TV had just messed up your mental map even more. After wandering around for a solid half hour, you were forced to admit that you needed help. You stopped at a gas station, then looked down at your phone in the passenger’s seat nervously. It wouldn’t do you much good, given the fact that you could only call your monster friends with it. But maybe you could call Sans, who could get Hernandez on the line, who could give you directions...

You sighed. No, you didn’t want to bother anyone with your mistake. You should just go into the gas station and ask, like a normal person would. You gritted your teeth and hopped out of the jeep, slamming the door louder than you’d intended to. You flinched, shivered, then meekly walked into the convenience store. 

The bell above the door tinkled half-heartedly as you made your entrance. For a gas station in the middle of a suburban area, there were surprisingly few people there. Just one kid manning the counter and a guy with his back to you, looking at candy bars. You walked up to the counter and leaned your forearms on it.

“Hi,” you said nervously. The kid raised his brows at you. He looked about 17... You wondered why he wasn’t in school. Was it already so late in the day that school had been let out?

“Can I help you?” he asked, sounding bored. You couldn’t blame him.

“Yeah... I’m, uh, kinda lost. Could you give me directions to... um...” You blanked on your address. It was something generic... Oak Street? Maple Street? Cedar Street? It was some kind of tree, but you couldn’t remember...

“...Just... Tell me how to get to West Ebott Elementary.” Frustrated with yourself, you blurted out the name of the school Frisk would be going to. You hadn’t had a problem remembering your address when Reives asked you before, so why were you blanking on it now? But as long as you could get to the elementary school, you figured you could find your way from there.

“Uh... Sure. It’s not far... Just get on this street and turn right on Hillcrest. It’ll take you straight there.” The kid pointed in the direction you had to go, and you felt an immense sense of relief wash over you.

“Thank you... Seriously. Thank you so much,” you rambled as you began to back away. Unbeknownst to you, the guy looking at candy bars must’ve queued up behind you when you weren’t paying attention, and you ran right into him.

“Oh, sorry!” you apologized through gritted teeth, side-stepping out of his way. The man looked at you strangely, then said,

“Hey, wait... Aren’t you the freak from the monster camp?” You froze. The guy’s hard expression told you that being “the freak from the monster camp” was not a good thing in this case. Confronted by such immediate dislike, you had no idea what to say.

“Um...”

“Fucking weirdo,” the man mumbled under his breath when you took too long to answer, “You and those other monster apologists should just be locked under the mountain with ‘em. Bet you’d like that, too.” 

Your eyes widened. You were woefully unprepared to be randomly called out by a stranger at a gas station. All you wanted was to go home... So you just started leaving. Everything in you screamed not to turn your back to the man, but you clenched your hand around your cane and did just that. 

“What? Nothing to say?” the guy challenged you when you threw open the door, the bell chiming again as you left. After the door closed, you whispered to yourself,

“Nope.”

Truth be told, you really would rather have been locked under the mountain with the monsters than be out here on the surface. At least you wouldn’t have had to deal with people like him. 

Your hands were back to shaking again when you turned the key to start your car. You quickly smashed the button to turn the radio off, then rubbed your hands over your face.

“Fuuuuuck everything,” you moaned, but still felt unsatisfied after saying it. You wanted to sit there and wallow in self-pity, but you really didn’t want that guy coming out of the gas station and seeing you again. You forced yourself to pull back out onto the road, hopefully for the last time today.

Eventually, after circling around the elementary school, you finally found your way back to the apartment building.

“Fuck Pine Street,” you said when you got out of your car, because that was just the kind of mood you were in now. Besides, you had to get it all out before you got back inside. You needed to put on a happy face for Frisk. Or at least a non-miserable face. You carried as much as you could in one hand, feeling even more glum when you realized you’d have to come back down without your cane in order to get the TV. Again, you saw exactly no one in your building as you rode the elevator up to the second floor.

After a bit of a struggle with the key, you manhandled the door open with your shoulder. To your surprise, you were met by the sight of Frisk staring right at you. They were kneeling backwards on the couch, their head resting on the back cushions.

“Oh, hey... Sorry it took so long, I went to a couple different stores and then I got lost, and then I almost got beat up by some guy at a gas station...” You trailed off at the look on Frisk’s face. They stared at you with wide eyes, as though unsure if you were real or not. There were tear tracks on their cheeks, but they looked stale. You slowly nudged the door closed with your foot.

“You okay, kiddo?” _Please... I can’t deal with this right now..._ The desperate thought pounded in your mind. All you wanted to do was get the rest of the groceries up here and lock yourself in your room for the rest of the day. You forced yourself to pay attention as Frisk’s little fingers clutched the couch cushion. They pried their hands off of it and raised them as if to sign something. They paused, and fresh tears leaked from the corners of their eyes.

“Wanna write it down?” you asked, feeling like garbage for still not knowing sign language. You really needed to put more effort into that...

The kid dashed off to their room and didn’t reappear for several minutes. In that time, you set the groceries down on the counter and began to put them away. They came out of their room so quietly that you barely even noticed them before they were at your side. They wiped their face and wouldn’t look at you as they handed you a piece of paper with several lines of writing on it.

You were gone so long that I started to think you wouldn’t come back. You said you’d be back soon-ish... What does soon-ish mean?

You frowned and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was three-thirty. So yeah, okay, you’d been gone a lot longer than you thought you would. You leaned backwards against the counter, wishing you could sit during this conversation to rest your aching feet.

“I’m really sorry, Frisk. I didn’t think I’d be gone that long. I’ll... be more specific about how long I’ll be gone next time. And, if I’m running late, I’ll text you. You have a phone, right?” You realized then that probably the first thing you should’ve done was get Frisk’s number. Better late than never, though. The kid looked much more relieved when you took their phone, which was identical to yours, and typed your number into it. You texted yourself with their phone and saved the contact.

“There, now you can text me if you’re ever wondering where I am, and I’ll text you if I’m late. That sound good?” Frisk nodded. Good, problem solved.

“I’m gonna go get the rest of the stuff from the car now,” you said as you reluctantly pushed off from the counter. “Be right back... And I mean it this time.” Frisk smiled and clutched their phone to their chest. By the time you got back with the TV and one last bag of groceries, they had retreated back to their room and closed the door.

You hurried to follow suit as soon as humanly possible. You only organized the groceries to the extent that the refrigerated stuff went into the refrigerator and the rest of the stuff got thrown into a cabinet. You could rearrange things to have some semblance of order later. As soon as you placed the TV in a lonely corner of the living room, you locked yourself in your bedroom and pulled out your phone. It only rang once, but it was one too many times before you heard his voice.

“Heya, skeleton residence here.” Your soul practically sang with relief. You’d just seen him that morning; you hadn’t even been gone as long as that one day with Hernandez and Charlie yet. But it still felt like it’d been an age.

“ _Sans_.” You couldn’t think of anything to say other than his name. You’d called to vent, but now you weren’t sure you could even do that. How much of a brave face did you have to put on for him? 

“What’s up, buttercup?” You laughed and shook your head even though you knew he couldn’t see you.

“Is that gonna be a thing now?”

“What? I like rhymes. They’re almost as good as puns.”

“But that’s the same one you used before.”

“You’re always a critic,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. You laid back on your bed and curled onto your side. There was a moment of silence before Sans broke it, “But really, how’re you doin’? Is it... going well?” Now you had to decide... Were you going to lie? You hesitated, then said,

“It’s alright... Kinda awkward, though. You know how I am with kids.”

You decided on half-truths. Those were the worst kind of lies in some ways, but you didn’t think you had much of a choice. If Sans thought you were miserable, he might do something drastic. You didn’t want him risking himself by teleporting to you just because you had a bad day. You wouldn’t have put it past him to do something stupid like that, so you held back from telling him the details of your day. You talked about getting groceries, but not about dissociating. You mentioned getting lost, but not the gas station. Certainly not the man who’d confronted you. Your story focused more on what had just happened with Frisk.

“I dunno... I just feel like I’m out of my element. I’m not used to having to take care of someone. I’m not a caring kind of person.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Wow, thanks,” you said, and Sans huffed at your sarcasm.

“But you’ll learn. Sounds like you handled it right in the end... Giving them your number, and all of that stuff. Don’t worry about it so much.”

You hummed. You supposed it hadn’t been so bad. You were unhappy that you’d made Frisk cry, but at least it probably wouldn’t happen again. 

“Speaking of bein’ caring... You said you went to the grocery store to get stuff for lunch. Did you and the kid, uh... eat at all?”

“Shit, no,” you cursed and jumped out of bed. “I gotta go... I’ll call you back later tonight...?”

“Sure thing, babe,” Sans said, and you could tell he was stifling a laugh, “Probably want to avoid starving the kid, for starters.” 

“Whatever, asshole,” you said with false venom before hanging up on him, but you were grinning from ear to ear. Truthfully, everything felt so much more manageable after talking to Sans. And, with the promise of another call later tonight, you had faith you could make it through the rest of the day.

Now, you just had to figure out how to apologize to Frisk again for not feeding them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter could've been a fic of its own, it was so damn long. I really loved writing it though... Had a lot of fun putting Reed through emotional turmoil XD
> 
> Remember way back in CYB how Sans was worried that Reed would adopt his terrible coping mechanisms? Welllll...
> 
> Grocery stores are extremely liminal spaces to me, especially when they're not busy. I don't know what it is about them, but I just feel like my soul exits my body every time I'm in one alone. So I guess I channeled that here lol.
> 
> Also, I think you can kind of guess what happened to Frisk before they fell down Mt. Ebott now. Just by how they act and what bothers them... There's enough context clues at this point.
> 
> Pretty sure this chapter breaks the record for number of f-bombs dropped. Yaaaaay *throws confetti*


	19. Time Flies When You're Having Fun

Time seemed to crawl by at a snail’s pace. After only one night in the new apartment, you already felt like you’d been there for a week. You managed not to catastrophically fail as a guardian for a whole day, but you were immensely relieved when you pulled up to the elementary school parking lot early the next morning with the kid in tow. There would be other adults there who would help you. Who actually knew how to take care of a child and would mercifully take yours for the whole day. What a beautiful concept.

Not that you disliked Frisk. You felt bad every time you thought about how uncomfortable you were with this whole situation, but you couldn’t help that you just didn’t like kids. Frisk, themself, was about as good a kid as you could hope to have to take care of. It’d only been one day and you could already tell that they wouldn’t be much work. They were quiet and mostly compliant; they didn’t complain when you told them they weren’t old enough to sit in the front of the car with you, and they placidly shook their head when you asked if they had any radio station preferences. They simply stared out the window during the ten minute drive to their new school. If you weren’t constantly walking on eggshells around them, you would’ve forgotten they were even there.

Once you got to your destination, you were astonished at how foreign the elementary school felt after having not been in one for over a decade. Everything seemed familiar and yet much smaller than you remembered, from the brightly colored murals on the walls to the narrow hallways. Even the chairs in the principal’s office you’d been ushered into were far too tiny for your adult body.

Frisk, however, was perfectly comfortable in the seat next to you. The two of you had been left alone while the principal bustled around, looking for... something. She talked too fast for you to fully understand her. While you waited for her return, you looked over at Frisk. They were staring at the knickknacks on the principal’s desk, seemingly deep in thought. You nudged them, then filled the silence by asking,

“This school seems pretty cool... Do you like it here?” The kid shrugged. You had to respect their brutal honesty. You wanted to continue the conversation, but Frisk didn’t have their notepad on them and you couldn’t think of anymore yes or no questions to ask. 

You were saved by the principal’s return. You heard her high heels clacking on the linoleum before the door even opened.

“Okay! I just have a couple forms for you to fill out before we can get Frisk registered in our system.” She smiled at the kid, who gave her a polite but hesitant smile back. You took the papers that were being handed to you, silently despairing at having to fill out more forms. Before you picked up the pen, you looked up at the principal and asked,

“Frisk uses sign language... That won’t be a problem, will it?” She looked surprised, but quickly recovered,

“Oh! Not at all... There’s a spot on the form for special accommodations,” She tapped a perfectly manicured nail on a spot at the bottom of the first page. “We can get an interpreter in Frisk’s classroom, don’t you worry about it! We actually had another deaf student just graduate to middle school last year-”

“Oh, Frisk’s not deaf,” you corrected, “They just don’t talk,” The principal looked confused, as though the concept was completely unfamiliar to her. She adjusted her glasses and put a hand on her hip.

“W-well, I’m sure we can accommodate that too! I’ll just... call one of our aids and see what she thinks.” She walked around to the other side of the desk, sat down on a normal-sized chair, and picked up the phone.

While she did whatever she needed to do, you tuned out her conversation and turned your attention to the papers on your lap. Immediately, you were stumped by the first question. What was Frisk’s last name? You weren’t sure whether to put your name, or Dreemurr, or if you should just make something up. You would’ve asked Frisk what they preferred, but you didn’t want the principal to know that you didn’t even know your own kid’s last name. After some hesitation, you decided to just put your own name, as it seemed like the least controversial option.

To your dismay, the second question was just as difficult.

_Gender: Male/Female (circle one)_

You glanced over at Frisk, who stared at the paper blankly. They looked up at you and blinked, but gave no indication of what you should do.

Decisively, you crossed out the question and wrote above it,

_other - they/them/theirs pronouns_

You nervously looked over at Frisk for approval. To your delight, they looked ecstatic. They gave you a big smile, and you grinned back. You were glad you managed to do something right, at least.

The rest of the form was fairly easy. You were able to figure out Frisk’s date of birth with a little mental math, and the rest was mostly stuff about you and your relation to the kid. The timing was perfect; right as you finished the form, the principal hung up the phone.

“Alright! I think we got everything sorted. We’ll put an interpreter in Frisk’s classroom and see how it goes... If they end up not needing it, then we can make adjustments.” As she talked, you handed the papers off to her and nodded along. “Oh, you’re done with these? Excellent. The next step is to get Frisk placed into a classroom... We’ll give, um...” She looked from Frisk down to the papers you’d handed her, squinting at them with scrutiny before continuing more slowly, “We’ll give _them_ a couple of standardized tests just to see what grade they’d fit into best. Sound good, sweetie?” She smiled down at Frisk kindly. The kid nodded, and you fidgeted a little in your seat.

“Do I, um, stay for that? Or...?” The principal laughed lightly.

“Oh, no! We’ll take Frisk from here. You can come and get them at 3:30... The usual let-out time.”

You were glad to hear it; you didn’t want to have to wait around in this cramped building all day. You got up from your chair, and Frisk looked at you balefully. This prompted you to ask,

“Will you be okay here, Frisk?” Thankfully, they nodded again, and you figured that settled it. “Alright, see you at 3:30.” The principal smiled at you and held out her hand. You shifted your cane to take it.

“It was nice to meet you,” she said, wringing your hand a little too tightly. “We’re excited to have Frisk at our school.”

“Yeah. Nice to meet you, too.”

Not long after that, you found yourself back in the jeep, minus one child. Leaving Frisk at school felt like a huge weight off your shoulders. Now, you only had to worry about yourself... Until 3:30, at least.

Before heading back to the apartment, you stopped at a library you’d passed on the way to Frisk’s school. You were sorely tempted to use the computers they had there to check your social media accounts. What with everything that had happened to you in the past year, it had to be a wild mess. But you chickened out and ended up just getting what you came for and leaving immediately after.

What you’d gone to the library for happened to be a book on sign language. You figured it was high time you knuckled down and learned it. Even if this situation with Frisk only lasted a week or two, it would still be a useful skill to have. You planned on spending a quiet day at home; sitting down with your sign language book for a couple hours and watching some long sought-after bad television shows until it was time to pick Frisk up from school.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be. When the elevator doors opened, you were surprised to see someone knocking on your door.

“...Daujatas?” The visitor jumped and whirled around. You hadn’t been sure at first, but now seeing her from the front made you certain it was the female officer.

“Jesus, don’t do that,” she said with a hand on her chest.

“What’re you doing here?” you asked as you shifted the book in your arm so you could take your keys out of your coat pocket. You hadn’t meant to sound so accusing, but you hardly knew Officer Daujatas. There was no reason you could think of for her to be at your door. Or even to know where you lived, really. Hernandez must’ve told her.

“Checking up on you,” she said bluntly, stepping aside so you could unlock your door. You shot her what must’ve been a sour look, because she continued almost apologetically, “No one sent me, or anything... Some of us guards just thought you might like to have visitors sometimes. I can leave if you’re pissed.” 

You laughed, both at her phrasing and out of relief that Reives hadn’t ordered her to spy on you. You got the door open, then paused before answering,

“Nah, I’m not pissed. You can come in.” Politely, you held the door open for her, which was a difficult feat what with your hands being as full as they were.

“Good, because Hernandez and I rearranged our whole work schedules so we could do this,” she said curtly as she walked into your apartment, “Hey, this is a pretty nice place. What’s the rent like?”

“Wait, hold up,” you said as you closed the door behind her, “Why did you change your schedules?” You were a little overwhelmed by all of this. You had never really known what to think of Daujatas in the first place; you knew her as an assertive, take-no-shit kind of person, from your limited experience with the woman. Having her pay you a social visit at your new place seemed out of line with your original view of her.

“Well... Hernandez and I both live around here, so we figured we could come and visit sometimes. We had to change our schedules so we could fly home on different days.” She sat down on your couch, and you leaned against the kitchen counter. 

“Oh... Well, thanks. That’s nice of you.”

Daujatas snorted, “I thought it was dumb. You’re an adult, you can take care of yourself.” You smiled, happy that at least someone had some confidence in you. “But Charlie thought it’d make your boyfriend feel better to know that someone was checking in on you in person.”

You laughed again and shook your head. “So you’re more worried about _Sans_ than me?”

She shrugged. “That’s just what Charlie said. I try not to stick my nose in other people’s business.”

You thought that was ironic, considering she was the one who’d gone out of her way to change her work schedule so she could visit you. That thought made you curious, so you asked,

“So, uh... What’s your work schedule, anyway? It must be awkward, having to fly there and back all the time...”

You had to admit, your trailing question had a bit of an ulterior motive. It could be useful to know how the guards got in and out of camp, just in case you had to sneak back in and couldn’t rely on Sans’ shortcuts for some reason.

“Well, we work four days out of the week and get flown home for the other three. You ever see the helicopter landing a little ways North of camp? That’s where we get dropped off... There’s a cabin out there that we sleep at on the days we’re working.”

“Sounds... interesting?” Secretly, you thought that sounded terrible. You’d never thought of the logistics of working out in the middle of nowhere before, but having to share a cabin in the woods with a bunch of other officers for four days out of the week didn’t sound like a fun time to you.

“It sucks,” Daujatas admitted, “...But it pays better than my last job, so.” She shrugged, and that ended that.

You found yourself genuinely wanting to know more about Daujatas and why she took on such a shitty job. She wasn’t as much of an obvious troublemaker as the other officers you knew, so you were curious as to what she’d done to get reassigned. But you got the distinct impression that she wouldn’t take well to being questioned, so you let the conversation die.

Daujatas drummed her fingers on the arm of the couch before suddenly jolting upright. “Oh, I almost forgot...” She stood up and dug in her pockets before handing you a nondescript, black box. You took it, and cautiously started peeling the tape off of the sides. “Your boyfriend gave it to King Asgore, who gave it to Charlie, who gave it to me to give to you...”

Inside was a watch. A really nice-looking, traditional watch, too. The watch face was dark and simple, with a sturdy but sleek leather band. You took it out of the box and turned it around in your hand, confused but enraptured. 

“There’s a note in there, too,” Daujatas pointed out as she hovered over your shoulder. She was obviously just as curious about what was in the box as you were. Sure enough, there was a little folded-up note stuck to the lid. You pointedly turned away from Daujatas before prying the note out and unfolding it.

_hey babe. happy birthday... or almost-birthday... or belated birthday... dunno when this’ll get to you, to be honest. trying to think of what to get you was real time consuming, so i hope this is good enough._

_love ya,  
-sans_

You smiled, your soul instantly warmed by the handwritten message. You’d completely forgotten about your own birthday... How was that possible? You’d written the date on Frisk’s school forms this morning and, even then, you hadn’t noticed that it was coming up. You were so consumed with other things that turning a year older didn’t cross your radar.

But Sans had remembered. Even though you’d never told him outright, he knew when your birthday was. The timing was terrible; you’d much rather be in camp to celebrate it with him and your friends than stuck out here on your own. Maybe next year you could have a proper party. You hadn’t celebrated your birthday in years... You hadn’t understood the point when you were in college. Perhaps that had something to do with being soulless at the time. But now, the thought of being doted on by your friends was appealing. 

As you fantasized about what life might be like a whole year from now, you suddenly remembered something Sans had written in the letter. You scanned it again and laughed. You’d completely missed the pun on the first read. 

“What a dork.” You shook your head, setting the box and note on the kitchen counter so you could clasp the watch around your left wrist. It looked sharp and crisp against your skin. You wondered what made Sans decide to get you a watch, of all things... But you weren’t complaining. It’d be nice not to have to pull out your phone to look at the time.

“Well, if you don’t need anything, then I’m going to head out,” Daujatas announced. You’d forgotten that she was even there. You nodded.

“Yup, I’m good. Tell Sans to stop worrying... I’m fine. And, uh...” you hesitated and glanced down at your feet, “Thanks for going to all this trouble to come visit me. You didn’t have to do that.” You weren’t looking at her, but you could hear Daujatas scoff.

“Don’t mention it. We guards all stick together like family... Or, well, most of us do,” she paused, then started again, “Point is, you and Frisk are part of that now, like it or not.”

You smiled at her, genuinely touched by the sentiment. To your amusement, Daujatas looked quite uncomfortable with your gratitude. It made you want to play it up more, but she was already on her way to the door before you could embarrass her further.

“Hernandez should be stopping by later in the week. See you around.”

“Okay... Bye,” you called out just as the door closed, then laughed to yourself once you were sure Daujatas was far enough away not to hear you. You’d gained some strange and unexpected allies, that was for sure.

You picked up your phone with the intention of looking at the time, then remembered your new gift and looked at that instead. You tilted your arm to see the light shine off of the watch. You couldn’t help but wonder if there was some kind of hidden meaning to Sans’ choice of birthday present, but, after a minute of staring at it, you concluded that it was probably nothing. 

Between the restored hoodie and the watch, Sans was being almost unnervingly sweet to you lately. Maybe getting you presents was his way of feeling like he was helping. In a way, you had to admit that he was. Knowing that Sans was thinking of you and getting physical reminders of it did help to reassure you that he wasn’t all that far away. Maybe you should start putting in more of an effort to do the same...

You grabbed your phone and flopped down on the couch. As you hit the “call” button next to “bonehead,” you remembered that you were supposed to be studying your sign language book.

“Hey,” Sans picked up almost immediately, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

...Sign language could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long for me to write a fairly short chapter... I've been very busy with school and have also been focusing more on the dating sim recently. I'm going to continue to be busy what with it being finals week, and then having to move back home, and then a couple weeks after that I'm moving out to my own apartment... It's just a lot of stuff going on right now lol. But never fear! I should be far less busy in a month or so :)
> 
> I know Sans doesn't feature very prominently in part 3, so idk how you guys feel about that. But there'll be an extra long Sans chapter very soon, I promise ;)
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: HEY LISTEN UP! I know it's been ages since I updated, but I still plan on returning to this fic. I feel bad about leaving y'all high and dry, but I kept thinking "no need to announce a hiatus, because I'll get back to writing tomorrow!" ...and then four months passed :/ So it is still on hiatus at this point. I can't say exactly when I'll be able to get back to it, but it will return.
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT 2: HEY! The hiatus is over! The next chapter will be posted within a couple days of writing this note, so go check that out!


	20. Even a Worm Will Turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet you didn't think I'd get back to writing this, eh?
> 
> I'm not sure how many people are still interested in reading this series, so I'll try to keep this "welcome back" message brief. The reason I'm getting back to writing this now is because I just recently finished writing my first original novel, which has always been a huge goal of mine! I'm still debating whether or not I want to try to get it published traditionally or if I just want to self-publish, but I'll update you guys when there's progress on that if anyone's interested. In the meantime, I've always wanted to finish Still Counting, and I've been going through so many big changes in my personal life that I need something familiar to get lost in. So here we are!
> 
> I've spent the last couple weeks editing TUYS, CYB, and what's been written so far of TAR. I would strongly suggest going back and rereading everything if you plan to continue following the series, if for no other reason than to refamiliarize yourself with the story. There's not been any huge changes to the plot, but there's a couple of important details that did get changed. If you want to reread everything and find the changes as you go, DO NOT click the following link! If you don't want to reread or just want to know what the changes are ahead of time, [click this link](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ryUxSNW3LwnLVonJBoNPGFylfKmDp06utjCoQG3JjhI/edit?usp=sharing) for a log of all the changes I made while editing.
> 
> Oh, and before I go... Say hi to [Reed the cat](https://imgur.com/a/tDA386b)! Her personality ended up being just like Reed's, too, so the name is fitting XD Okay, now enjoy the chapter!

The following days limped on like a lame duck. You and Frisk settled into a mostly unpleasant routine, which involved a lot of keeping to yourselves and not much talking. Frisk went to school every weekday and dutifully did their homework in the afternoons, never once asking for your help despite you offering it. They were sullen about having been placed in second grade... They insisted that they should be in third grade, but their placement tests suggested otherwise. 

Then again, they were sullen about most things these days. You couldn't really blame them, given the situation, but their attitude started to get on your nerves. They would sometimes not even try to communicate with you, simply ignoring you rather than taking out a pen and paper to respond. You were trying to teach yourself sign while they were at school, but you weren't good enough at it yet to have an actual conversation. Not that you would've known if you were, since Frisk merely shrugged at your suggestion that they help you practice. You'd thought it would've been a nice way to spend time with them, but they didn't seem interested in that.

When they did talk to you, it was only to complain. About the food, mostly. You were trying to improve your cooking while Frisk was at school, too, but it wasn't the quality they took issue with. They were so used to the constant stream of desserts Toriel baked that your slightly healthier approach was met with hostility. You stubbornly refused to let the kid eat whatever they wanted; they were already pudgy, and what kind of guardian would you be if you let them get even more overweight? The fits Frisk threw escalated to the point where they sometimes refused to eat at all, and you couldn't find it in you to feel sorry for them.

Another major complaint they had was about their hair. They hopped in the Jeep Friday after school only to hand you a page-long argument about why they needed to get their haircut right that minute. Apparently, a lot of people at school were mistaking them for a girl, and they vehemently despised it. Of course you didn't care what they did with their own hair, however, when you called the nearest salon, they were booked up for a solid two weeks. You called a few other places, but none of them could fit you in any sooner.

I can't wait that long... And we’re supposed to be back home by then, anyway. Frisk wrote on their pad of paper after you informed them of the bad news.

"Well, I could cut it for you..." you suggested, but trailed off as Frisk shook their head vigorously.

You won't do it right! They pouted. You had no idea a kid could sound so whiny when they couldn't even speak.

"Sorry, but those are the only options," you said with a carefully neutral expression, trying to sound diplomatic. There wasn't anything you could do... Why didn't Frisk understand that?

"Kids are so selfish," you complained to Sans later that day over the phone, "All of them. Even Frisk."

“They're probably just missin' home,” he said. It annoyed you that he was always trying to be the neutral party whenever you vented to him... He rarely took your side. Somehow, he seemed to sense your irritation over the phone. “Look, I hear ya. Kids aren’t your thing... So why didja think Frisk would be different?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed and pressed the phone tighter to your cheek. 

"How are you doin', though? Physically, I mean."

"Good," you answered just a little too quickly. You held your breath, hoping that Sans wouldn't notice. Luckily, he didn't seem to.

"Good. Hopefully this will all be over with soon."

With your free hand, you clutched the wheel of your chair until your knuckles turned white. The truth was that you weren't doing so hot. It had only been a week since you left, but you had deteriorated fast in that time. It wasn't anything you hadn't expected, per say... The usual burning muscles, aching joints, and hair falling out. But it happened so much quicker than you thought it should have. You tried to ignore it for a while, but when you fell and twisted your ankle trying to walk down the two steps leading up to your apartment building yesterday, you knew you had to do something.

So it was with a heavy heart that you went out and bought yourself a wheelchair. You couldn't deny that you needed it. The cane wasn't enough; if you fell and hurt yourself even worse, you'd be in big trouble. You were determined to last at least another week before asking Sans to come and get you. You wanted to avoid the risk of him being seen past the border, though you knew you'd have to give in and get healed by Papyrus eventually.

"Yeah," you continued the conversation absentmindedly, rolling the wheel of your chair over the linoleum as you fidgeted. "At this rate, the road will probably be done before Frisk's situation is settled." You'd taken to driving past the construction site - even though it was far out of your way - and were pleasantly surprised to find that the road up the mountain was coming along pretty quickly. If you could just drive up to camp every now and then to get healed, it would improve your situation tremendously...

"Doesn't matter to me how it happens. As long as I get to see you again." Sans's wistful tone sent a pang of sadness through your chest. You stopped fiddling with your wheelchair to rub your forehead. You were afraid to ask what Sans had been up to this past week; without you there to nag him, you seriously doubted whether he had left the house at all. For no particular reason, you glanced at your watch, and were glad you did when you saw the time.

"Crap... I gotta pick Frisk up from school. And I haven't taken anything out for dinner... I'll have to call you back later," you rambled. You heard Sans' quiet sigh through the receiver.

"Okay. Talk to ya later."

~~~

On your way home from getting Frisk, you picked up an electric razor from the store. Your hair had just reached the length you preferred, but it was starting to fall out in clumps again. You were forced to shave it off by yourself that night.

~~~

The promised social worker finally came. Thankfully, it was while Frisk was at school. You didn't want the government agent to witness their moodiness while in your care. Unfortunately, the social worker had other issues with your situation.

"I wasn't aware that you were confined to a wheelchair," she pointed out rather bluntly. You winced. You were just using your cane at the moment, but you hadn't had time to stash the chair away somewhere before answering the door. Its presence in the living room was one of the first things the social worker noticed. 

"I'm not... I just use it to help get around sometimes. The cold weather doesn't do me any favors," you explained weakly. The woman simply hummed and continued on with her inspection.

It was a miracle she didn't find anything else wrong with your apartment. You knew it was a nice place, but just having her saunter around taking notes was enough to make you question every decision you'd made. Was it a faux pas to keep a pair of scissors on the counter? Did having an unmade bed count against you? You were relieved when the social worker announced that everything looked to be in order, and that she would be back in a few weeks to check on you again. 

Silently, you prayed you would be long gone by then.

~~~

"The twentieth," you repeated after Asgore, who was on speaker phone as you sat on your bed, unwrapping your legs.

"Yes. I do hope you will be back by then to attend the search party yourself, but I cannot postpone it any longer." As you peeled away the brace on your ankle, you bit into the flesh on your forearm to silence your wimper of pain. Indents in the shape of your teeth remained on your skin long after you pulled away. Oblivious, Asgore kept talking, "Agent Reives wants to keep things moving ahead as planned." You shut your eyes tight as you slowly flexed your foot. You grabbed it with one hand and massaged it fruitlessly as you muttered under your breath,

"Agent Reives can go suck my-"

"What was that?" Asgore asked. With a shaky sigh, you began unwrapping the other ankle. 

"Nothing. How's the road coming?"

"Oh, wonderfully... There were human construction workers in the camp earlier this morning. I asked them when they thought it might be complete, but they were unsure. They did say that it was going much faster than expected, though!" That, at least, was good news. You finished with the second brace, this time just covering your mouth with your hand instead of biting yourself.

"That's good," you mumbled from between your fingers, "How about Frisk's situation?" There was a long pause before you got an answer.

"It is not going as well, I am afraid. I must admit, I find your laws difficult to understand. But the lawyer seems less than hopeful that Toriel will be able to regain guardianship."

"...Ever?" you asked, desperate for Asgore to assuage your fears. He didn't.

"...I do not know. Nothing is certain."

That wasn't what you wanted to hear. Not at all. You'd been under the impression that this would all work itself out in a matter of days. Now Asgore was saying that Frisk might _never_ be able to return? You rubbed your legs, trying to work out the kinks in the sore muscles. You didn't know what else to do.

~~~

The only thing you could think to do was go to the library. You went straight there after dropping Frisk off at school the next day, equipped with your wheelchair. That alone made everything way more difficult than it should've been, especially since you didn't have your disabled parking permit. That hadn't come with the crate of personal affects your parents had sent you.

After struggling to get the chair out of the backseat while pinned between two other cars, you went straight for books about law. Specifically, adoption laws. Maybe the lawyer was purposely sabotaging Toriel's case. You hadn't necessarily gotten that impression when you met them but, if they were willfully misinforming Toriel and Asgore, you were going to find out. It wasn't fair that the monsters didn't even have access to the laws they were fighting against, so you figured the least you could do was get yourself and them up to speed.

Between the books you found and what you read on wikipedia, you were almost disappointed to find that the lawyer seemed to have been telling the truth. Toriel taking the kid in as her own could've very well been considered abduction. And the fact of the matter was that there just weren't any laws protecting monsters' rights, so the court could basically make up whatever excuse they wanted to keep any of the monsters from adopting Frisk. 

Until there was some sort of breakthrough, all you could really do was keep taking care of the kid, yourself. At least you'd be able to visit camp when the road was done, but still. You hadn't been prepared to leave Sans for as long as this.

~~~

Once you'd had your fill of the library, you swung around to the grocery store to grab some things before picking Frisk up from school. It took longer than anticipated, given that you couldn't walk farther than the distance from your car to the front door. It ended up being your first time ever using one of those electric carts provided by the store, and those things were as slow as molasses. Before leaving the parking lot, you texted Frisk to let them know that you were going to be a little late. They didn't respond.

When you finally got to the pick up zone, Frisk was nowhere in sight. You leaned forward in your seat to look for them, drumming your fingers on the steering wheel. You shot them another text, but no cigar. You watched as the last of the other parents' cars drove off with their kids in tow, until you were the only one left.

Your brows knit together with worry as you threw your car into park, resigned to the fact that you'd have to get out and inquire within the school. You thought that Frisk would probably burst out of the front doors the minute you got settled in your chair, because that was just your luck. But that wasn't what happened. You didn't see hide nor hair of them as you wheeled yourself on bumpy, salted sidewalks into the school, forced to knock on the office door until the woman behind the desk noticed you and scurried over to hold it open for you.

"Hello, can I help you?" she asked kindly as you crossed the threshold. There was a small waiting area, but no one seemed to be there except for the receptionist.

"Thanks," you murmured to her as the door slid shut again, "I'm looking for my kid... They haven't come out yet. Did something happen?" The lady settled herself behind the desk again and picked up an old-school phone receiver.

"Sure, we'll get it sorted out, don't you worry. What's your child's name, and who's their teacher?" You wheeled up to the front of the desk, disgruntled that you could barely see over it.

"Frisk. And, um..." You wracked your brain, then snapped your fingers. "Brown! Mrs. Brown."

"Okay, one moment..." The receptionist dialed a number while you waited impatiently. Maybe they had gotten in trouble for something and the teacher was keeping them late to get lectured. As far as you knew, they'd never acted up at school before, but there was a first time for everything. But if they weren't in their classroom...

"Hi Mrs. Brown, I'm calling on behalf of Frisk's parent. It seems that Frisk hasn't come out of school yet... Are they with you?" There was a short pause. You already knew what the answer was going to be by the way the receptionist's smile fell. "Oh... Okay. Well, thank you for your time."

By the time she hung up the phone, you had already turned around and were rolling toward the door.

"Hey, wait!" the lady called out behind you, but you paid her no heed. Luckily, the door opened outward, so you were able to turn the handle and kick it open while wheeling yourself out. You sped toward the front doors, hammered the automatic door button, and raced out to your car.

If Frisk wasn't in school, then there were only two options you could think of. Either they'd been kidnapped, or they ran away. This was the same kid who had wandered up a mountain by themself and got through the entire Underground on their own... You were betting on the latter option. Or, at least, you prayed they had just run away. If someone took them...

Frustrated with yourself, you ground your teeth together as you went through the arduous process of getting into the jeep. Once you were in the driver's seat, you checked your watch. Almost four o'clock. Frisk had nearly a half hour's head start. Your tires squealed as you swung out of the parking lot, determined to find the kid before they got hopelessly far away.

If Frisk had been kidnapped, then there wasn't much you could do about it. But if they'd run away, then you could maybe catch up to them and bring them back home, yourself. With that in mind, you zig-zagged through the residential streets near the school, your eyes peeled and heart pounding out of your chest. You were torn between crawling by at a snail's pace so as not to miss Frisk if you passed them, and speeding to cover more ground. As such, you ended up just going the speed limit, your head whipping back and forth as you searched. 

All the while, you berated yourself for letting this happen. You were an idiot. You had one job... Keep an eye on the kid. If you hadn't been late to pick them up, maybe you could've prevented this. What if it wasn't even Frisk who ran away? What if it was Chara controlling their body? Your foot pressed down harder on the gas at the thought. You could _not_ let Chara loose on the streets of North Ebott. 

You were maybe two minutes away from calling the police when you spotted them. You were about to blow through an intersection, but, in your periphery, you caught sight of a child with a purple backpack walking down the street on your right. You slammed on the brakes and changed course. You rolled up behind the kid, driving on the wrong side of the street to do so. Luckily, you were in a remote, rich neighborhood. There were no other cars in sight.

"Frisk!" you barked angrily after rolling down your window. A blast of cold, winter air hit you like a ton of bricks. "What do you think you're doing?" They continued walking with a purpose down the sidewalk, refusing to look at you.

"Get in the car!" you shouted, continuing to idle slowly after them. The brat furrowed their brow and sped up. Not running, but definitely trying to get away from you. A car parked on the side of the road forced you to swerve before resuming your orders, "Frisk, get in this car right now or I'll... I'll call Toriel!" Truthfully, you didn't know what to threaten them with. Frisk just wrinkled their nose and kept speed-walking down the street.

Seized by a hot, burning anger, you slammed on the brakes and threw the car into park. By the time you shoved the door open, Frisk was several paces ahead of you. You leaned heavily on the open door as you jumped out of the jeep. Stabbing pain lanced up your legs, but you ignored it and stumbled onto the sidewalk.

"FRISK!" you screamed after them. You only took three steps before you fell, your knees slamming into the concrete hard enough to make you cry out. The palms of your hands scraped on the ground as you threw them out to catch your fall. You looked up from the ground to see the purple backpack getting smaller as Frisk walked away. Glancing back at your still-running car, you decided it wouldn't be worth it to try getting your wheelchair out and pursuing Frisk. Even if you caught up to them, what could you do? Physically, you couldn't force them to go home with you.

You felt helpless. There was nothing you could do. You weren't fit to be a parent... Not even a guardian. The kid couldn't put up with you for more than a week without wanting to run away...

You shifted so that you were sitting on the sidewalk, fully committed to giving up. You tried to draw your knees up to hug them to your chest, but they twinged painfully at the motion. So you let them fall flat on the ground, your head hanging in shame. 

You were so busy feeling sorry for yourself that you didn't notice that Frisk had turned back around until a small hand touched your shoulder. You blinked and looked up at where they stood above you. In the time since you fell, all of your anger had drained away. Now, you were just hopeful.

"Frisk? I'm sorry," you apologized, though you weren't even sure what you did wrong. Knowing you and how much of a fuck-up you were, probably a lot of things. "Please come back home with me..." 

Frisk's expression was carefully blank. You couldn't tell what they were thinking as they knelt down, letting their backpack fall off their shoulders as they did so. They rooted around in there until they procured a notebook and pencil, then flipped to a blank page and started writing. From the amount of time they spent vigorously scribbling on the paper, you would've thought they were crafting a novel. When they finally handed it over to you, you read,

I'm sorry for running away. You didn't do anything bad. I just want to go home. I overheard you talking to Dad about how I might never be allowed to. So I decided to walk there myself. At that point, you paused to look up at the mountain that loomed behind Frisk. How they got themself there the first time was a mystery to you, but you knew they would never have been able to walk there on foot from this distance. You continued reading, I don't like it here. School sucks. The teacher wants me to talk all the time, but she doesn't get that I can't. The kids are mean. And I can't talk on the phone with Mom and all of my friends like you can. Texting isn't the same. When can I go home?

You held the notebook in one hand while rubbing your forehead with the other. This was all too much. You were barely handling your own problems; you didn't have the emotional capacity to deal with Frisk's, too. But you had to try. If you couldn't take care of Frisk the way they needed to be taken care of, then what was the point of going through all this heartache? You opened your mouth to point out how terrible of a guardian you were, but decided at the last moment to hold your tongue. Lamenting about how badly you were doing wasn't going to help Frisk; it would only make them feel bad for you. You needed to put that aside and stop being so selfish. With that in mind, you started explaining,

"Honestly, I don't know when we're going to be able to go home. Asgore thinks the road will be done soon, so we'll at least be able to go visit your parents and friends when that's finished. But the adoption thing... I just don't know," you admitted, forcing yourself to make eye contact with Frisk as you talked to them. You never knew how to speak to kids; you didn't know how to soften this blow to them. So you simply spoke to them like you would anyone else.

"And as for school... I'll have a word with Mrs. Brown about the talking thing. She shouldn't be harassing you about that. But, Frisk..." you hesitated, mulling over how you wanted to word this before continuing, "I know I'm not always the, uh... most approachable person on Earth, but I do want you to tell me when things like this are bothering you." You shook the notebook a little for emphasis. "We can figure this stuff out together, but not if you bottle it all up and then run away when it gets to be too much. Do you understand?" you asked, desperately hoping that they did. They bent over to write something down on the notebook while balancing it on your thigh. You watched as they wrote,

Yeah. You should tell me stuff too, though. We can be like a team? They hesitated before tacking the question mark on at the end of the sentence. You nodded vigorously.

"Yeah. We'll be like a team." You looked around at your surroundings, only just becoming aware of how odd the two of you must've looked. "But first... Let's get off of this person's front lawn, okay?"

Frisk grinned at you, then stuffed the notebook in their backpack. They ran over to the jeep and pulled out your cane from the backseat. It took a while to get you back on your feet; your hands were clammy from sitting out in the cold with no gloves, which made gripping the cane difficult. You were afraid to lean on Frisk lest you drag them down with you, but you were forced to take their hand when you were unable to get up by yourself. The kid was stronger than they looked and, with their help, you managed to get back in the car. 

You let Frisk ride in the passenger's seat on the way back to the apartment. You called the school to let them know that you found your kid, then, once the two of you were safe inside, you called Toriel. Fear flashed across Frisk's expression as the phone rang, but you had no intention of telling her what they did. Instead, you mediated a benign conversation between Tori and Frisk, letting the kid hold the phone in one hand while you verbally relayed whatever they wrote down in the notebook with the other. It wasn't a perfect solution, since they still couldn't talk privately on the phone with their mom, but Frisk seemed happy with the compromise.

Thanks, they wrote for you after hanging up the phone. 

"Anytime," you said, and you meant it. You were determined to do better now. You had to... If you didn't, then what was this all for?

~~~

You awoke the next morning to a peculiar buzzing sound coming from the bathroom. After hearing your knock on the door, Frisk didn't come out right away. Instead, they slid a note under the door politely asking you to give them a minute. You complied and, while you were brewing a strong cup of coffee, they emerged. You nearly dropped your mug when you saw their completely bald head.

"Frisk, what did you do to your hair?!" you asked as soon as you picked your jaw up from off of the ground. You were so used to seeing their hair long that it was quite a shock to see it all gone. They smiled at you proudly and passed you a note.

We're a team now, so I shaved my head to look like you! I wanted to get it cut, anyway.

You blinked once at the note, incredulous. Then, you laughed, knelt down, and gave the kid a big hug. It took you a minute to get back up from the ground, but it was undeniably worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact... I wrote the first half of the first part of this chapter almost exactly a full year ago. I feel like my writing's a little rusty, since I've been straight-up editing for more than a month now. First editing my novel, then Still Counting. So if it does't seem as good as usual, just give me some time to get back in the swing of things! I'm excited to continue working on this :)


	21. Quid Pro Quo

Sans was not looking forward to doing this.

Scratch that, he was not looking forward to doing this _without you_. The prospect of shepherding the human guards through the Underground wouldn't have been half as bad if you were there to joke about it with him. Because the whole concept of the search party was just that; a joke. The monsters, the human guards, the feds... Everyone involved knew they weren't gonna find any of those missing humans in the Underground. Even if the monsters _were_ keeping human prisoners, it would've been laughably easy to hide them from the tiny, four-person search party. No, it was just a PR stunt to appease the protesters who called for action. It was pointless, and Sans was none too happy that he had to partake in it.

The only reason he was there now, standing outside in the middle of the snowy road while the guards exited their helicopter, was because you'd asked him to go in your stead. He'd heard the nervousness in your tone when you hesitantly broached the subject. Given how he'd reacted the last time you tried to get him to partake in this ambassador stuff, Sans wasn't surprised that you'd been afraid to ask for his help. It broke his heart enough that he couldn't have possibly said no. He certainly didn't want you to think that he wasn't there for you... All of his former qualms about you being the go-between for humans and monsters seemed so trivial nowadays. You had other things to worry about and, if him going on this dumb search party eased your mind even a little bit, then it was more than worth the trouble.

"BROTHER!" Sans turned upon hearing Papyrus' shout. Behind him, he heard the incessant roar of the helicopter as it took off in to the sky again. A familiar, lazy grin spread on his face while he watched his bro run toward him. Behind Papyrus were Undyne and Asgore, who picked their way through the snow banks with more care than the lanky skeleton.

"You are so early! I am shocked!!!" Papyrus exclaimed as he approached. Sans shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Musta got the time wrong." That was blatantly untrue. In reality, Sans was early because he had been hoping to have a word with the humans before his brother arrived, but it seemed that wasn't going to be possible. He'd have to find another way...

"Good morning, Sans," Asgore rumbled once he was close enough. Undyne simply nodded and gave him a toothy grin in greeting. Before he could reply to Asgore, a voice from directly behind Sans said,

"Morning, everyone." It was Charlie. He recognized the voice before turning around to look.

"Good morning. How are you all doing today?" Asgore asked politely. Quietly, Sans slipped back out of the center of the circle of humans and monsters, half-obscuring himself behind Papyrus.

"Was doing good, before that helicopter ride," Charlie responded gruffly, looking up at the sky pointedly. It was a windy, overcast day. Sans could imagine the flight hadn't been pleasant.

"Ugh, I know!" Hernandez cut in, "Can't wait for that road to be done." Asgore's floppy ears perked up in interest.

"And is that coming along well?" 

"Yes," Daujatas, the only female guard present, answered the King's question, "I can see from my tower that, further down the road, they're already starting to paint the pavement markings. Can't be long now."

"That is excellent news." Asgore looked down at Sans pointedly. It was no secret that he was the most eager out of everyone for this road to get built. Once it was done, he'd finally, _finally_ be able to see you again. It couldn't happen fast enough. He knew you'd gotten in trouble for it at the time, but getting that road started had been the best thing you'd done so far as an ambassador. 

"Let's get this show on the road, yeah?" Undyne suggested as she shifted her feet on the ground. 

"YES! OH, I AM SO EXCITED TO SHOW THE HUMANS OUR HOME!!!" Papyrus exclaimed much louder than was necessary. Three of the guards cringed, but Hernandez grinned at the skeleton and said,

"Hell yeah, let's go."

With that, the group of humans and monsters made their way up the path leading to the Underground's entrance. Sans trailed behind everyone else, not too interested in partaking in whatever conversation they were all having. He didn't feel like partaking in much of anything, these days. Everything felt dull and lifeless without you around. 

When they all reached the maw of the cave, Asgore laid out the plan.

"I believe this will go most smoothly if we all split up into pairs," he rumbled, his gaze sliding between the four humans in attendance. After all, the monsters already knew the plan... The four of them had gone over it last night together.

"One monster to one human. Each pair can take one area of the Underground to search. That way, we may cover more ground. How does that sound?" he asked the guards, who looked at each other and nodded. Asgore smiled. "Excellent. I will take New Home, if someone would like to join me..."

"I'll go with you," Charlie piped up. Damn, Sans had been hoping Charlie would go with-

"AND I AM TAKING HOTLAND!!!" Papyrus shouted excitedly, "COME WITH ME... IF YOU DARE! NYEH HEH HEH!" The three remaining humans shuffled their feet apprehensively. Charlie raised his brows, looking quite satisfied with his choice. 

"I'll go," one of the men said gruffly. Green, Sans deduced by process of elimination. If he'd seen the guard on his own, Sans wouldn't have recognized him by name. Of all the guards here, Green was the one he knew the least about. Great.

"Well _I'm_ heading to Waterfall!" Undyne proclaimed, "Which one of you suckers wants to go with me???" It was only Hernandez and Daujatas left, and Hernandez kept shooting discrete glances at Sans. He pretty clearly wanted to go with him, for some reason. Sans couldn't've imagined why.

"Yeah, sure," Daujatas said once she read Hernandez's silent signals. Undyne flashed her a predatory smile.

"Looks like that leaves you and me," Hernandez announced as he side-stepped to stand next to Sans. Sans was too busy watching Green return a high-five from Papyrus to notice Hernandez's smile.

"Yup," he replied absentmindedly. 

"Good. Now that that is settled, shall we begin?" 

With that, Asgore led the curious group down under the mountain. The humans were quiet as they walked through the spot where the barrier once stood. Good; for once in his life, Sans didn't want to hear any funny quips out of anyone. They had no idea the significance this place held... To monsters as a species, and to him, personally. This was where you'd died. Where he'd killed you. He saw it in his nightmares constantly... Especially now that you were gone. It took everything in him not to call you in the middle of the night whenever that particular dream invaded his mind.

...Anyway, he was glad no one said anything. They didn't speak a word until they reached Asgore's garden, when Daujatas finally spoke up about how beautiful it was. Once she said that, it broke whatever spell had been holding the humans' tongues. They started commenting and asking questions about the rooms as they were led through them. Asgore usually answered, with the occasional addendum by Undyne or Papyrus. The King graciously accepted compliments about his home and garden, explained how the judgment hall was used for large meetings, and allowed the humans to stop for a moment to admire the spectacular view of New Home.

All the while, Sans kept his eyes on Green's back with a disingenuous grin plastered on his face. Put it simple, he didn't like that this guard was going to be alone with his brother all day. Not that he necessarily thought Green would _attack_ him. Nor did he doubt his bro's ability to defend himself if he did. It was just... Well, Sans didn't exactly know what it was. Maybe it was because he'd failed to protect Papyrus so many times - simply watched as he'd been killed over and over - that he felt like he had to make up for it by being extra vigilant now. Although Sans could recognize that it was probably not a productive way to think (you would've certainly had something stern to say about it, if you'd been there), he couldn't help feeling that way.

He just couldn't suss out what this guy's deal was. Green had always been quiet, as far as Sans' limited experience with him went, but it had never seemed suspicious until now. Green didn't say a word as the gang walked from the former barrier to the elevator that went to Mettaton's hotel. The groups were gonna split off from there, so if Sans was going to do anything about this, now had to be the time. 

There was _one_ way that Sans knew he'd be able to get an honest read of Green. He didn't want to, necessarily, but it was the only way he'd feel comfortable leaving Papyrus alone with him. Besides, all of the guards already knew about magic. It wasn't like he'd be giving away the farm. 

While they waited for the elevator to arrive, he decided to go for it. Sans didn't bother with the hand motion; he had enough practice with you that he could do this without the gesture. Green received no warning aside from three, loud clicks before his soul was laid bare for the rest of the party to see.

Ironically, Green's soul wasn't green. It was a pure, bright aqua, which bathed the wide hallway in an eerie, sea-green light. The poor man gasped and flinched violently, slamming his shoulder into the wall as he did so. Sans had only a moment to observe the soul, and he took full advantage of it. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, exactly, but something in the soul's soft glow reassured him. The guy was patient; he may not join in, but he'd be able to put up with Papyrus' enthusiasm without getting annoyed. Before Sans could scrutinize him more closely, Green instinctively reached out his hand and slammed his soul back into his own chest. 

"W-what was that?" Green didn't strike Sans as a man to be easily rattled, but he certainly looked to have been at that moment. He kept a hand on his sternum, eyes darting between the monsters for answers. The monsters, for their part, were vexed. Papyrus scratched the top of his head, his metal armor clanking as he raised his arm.

"Um... That was your soul! Though I must admit, I am not sure what it is doing! It must be excited!!!"

"No," Asgore denied this with a shake of his head, "Souls do not just appear. Someone must have summoned it." Sans knew he was done for when the King glanced at him for half a second. He didn't know how Asgore could have possibly known, but, before he could say anything, Charlie cut in,

"Wait, that thing was his _soul_? Is that, like, a metaphor, or...?"

"It is not a metaphor, no." Asgore sighed a little before continuing, "Souls form the basis of all magic. Everyone has one, but most people do not get to see theirs. There is no need to be alarmed by it." He smiled reassuringly at Green, who still looked pretty alarmed, in Sans' opinion. He continued rubbing his chest slowly, his brows knit together in concerned contemplation. Sans felt a little bad for the guy, plus Asgore already suspected him, so he felt obligated to admit,

"Sorry, that was my bad. It was an accident... Won't happen again," he assured Green, who nodded, still wide-eyed with bewilderment. 

The monsters, however, were not so easily convinced. You didn't "accidentally" pull out someone's soul. It just didn't work that way. But it wasn't such an egregious act that anyone called him out on it, which Sans had been counting on. Papyrus bounced on his heels, looking like he wanted to say something, but he held back.

Before anything more could be said, the elevator finally arrived. Problem was that, with Asgore being so big, not everyone was gonna fit. Not wanting to deal with the disapproving looks of his brother, Asgore, and Undyne any longer, Sans was quick to suggest a solution.

"You guys go ahead... We'll wait for the next one." What he really wanted to do was take a shortcut. Getting down to Hotland and then waiting on the Riverperson was going to take forever. Just the thought of that much walking exhausted Sans. But he had to be careful about that stuff. The guards may have been privy to Orion's teleporting powers, but they didn't know Sans could do the same. He'd rather keep it that way.

Once everyone else had squeezed inside the elevator enough that the doors could shut, Sans found himself alone with Hernandez. That was... new. Almost immediately, the human began to talk.

"This place is pretty spectacular," he said, his eyes darting down the hallway, "Did you used to live down in that city before moving up to the surface?"

"Nope," Sans replied while pressing the elevator call button, "My bro and I lived in Snowdin."

"Is that where we're going?" Hernandez asked. Sans realized, then, that he never did tell his human search-buddy what area they were in charge of. Some guide he was. The fact that he was doing this on your behalf made him want to do at least a half-decent job, even if he thought this whole thing was ridiculous. With that in mind, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and straightened his spine a little before explaining,

"Yup. It's too cold there for most people's liking, but some of the furrier monsters tolerate it. And, um, Papyrus and I." While he waited for the elevator, Sans leaned against the wall and slowly slid down to sit on the floor. Hernandez mirrored his position against the opposite wall.

"So the cold doesn't bother you?"

"Nah. No skin." Sans extracted one of his hands from his pocket and waggled his bony fingers. Hernandez grinned.

"Does Orion live there now, too? I noticed they're not staying in the camp anymore... I haven't seen them in ages." 

Sans couldn't help but to cringe. Up until now, no one had asked any questions about Orion. He supposed he should've expected it, though. He was the one who had insisted that Orion be listed as his and Papyrus' half sibling. If anyone should know where Orion was, it was him.

"Who knows where they went," Sans said darkly, unable to meet Hernandez's eyes, "I'm sure we won't run into 'em, though. Sorry to disappoint."

"It's okay. I... um..." Hernandez scratched the back of his neck. "I heard you two don't get along so well. Can I ask why? You can tell me to fuck off if it's too personal!" he added that last part on quickly before Sans had the chance to utter a word. He shrugged and lied easily,

"S'not that personal, really. We just don't see eye-to-eye. Can't even be in the same room with each other, if I'm bein' honest," he joked to himself, fully aware that Hernandez wouldn't get it. "They, uh... They did their best, but I didn't agree with some of the things they did. Better if we just kept our distance."

Hernandez frowned, but didn't push. The elevator arrived before either of them could say anything more on the matter. Sans had to pause to read the map next to the door before pushing any buttons. Truthfully, he didn't know how to work the elevator, as he never used it. There was a convenient shortcut that led from his basement to the judgment hall, and that was the only place in New Home he ever had to be... He figured it out, at any rate, and they were soon speeding downward toward Mettaton's hotel.

In an effort to prevent any further questions from Hernandez during the elevator ride, Sans decided to voice one of his own.

"Have you been to Ebott City recently?" Apparently, Sans wasn't slick. Hernandez grinned and said teasingly,

"If you mean to ask whether I've checked up on your partner yet, the answer's no. I had to work an extra day so that I could do this." He made a sweeping motion with his hand, indicating to his surroundings. "But I'll pay them a visit when I go home tomorrow. Cross my heart." 

A light dusting of blue stained Sans' cheeks. Obviously, he knew from his conversations with you that basically all of the guards knew about your relationship by now. But it still felt weird to be called out on it so openly. Hernandez seemed pretty cool with it, but Sans had no idea what the other guards thought. Not that he particularly cared about the opinions of the guards, but if it got out to the general public... People already thought that Sans had brainwashed you. They'd think it even more if they knew the two of you were in a relationship. What would your parents think of him...?

That was a rabbit hole Sans couldn't afford to go down at the moment. He mentally shook himself and replied to Hernandez with more conviction than was necessary,

"Good."

They were both quiet for a minute. Sans could practically feel the guard buzzing with the desire to ask another personal question. He tried to think of something else to ask to divert Hernandez's attention, but couldn't come up with anything else he cared to know. Thankfully, Sans was spared by the elevator sliding to a stop. They'd arrived at Mettaton's hotel.

Hernandez's eyes went wide as he followed Sans off of the elevator. It was right around the time when everyone was going to work, so foot traffic through this central hub of the Underground was at its peak. Knowing how all humans looked so similar to each other, it had to be overwhelming for Hernandez to be dropped in the middle of such a variety of body types. Sans remembered from your memories how startled you'd been when you saw him for the first time, and he was hardly the scariest looking monster around. 

The human guard followed close at Sans' heels as he strolled through the hotel lobby. The usually loud, boisterous man was reduced to Sans' quiet, somber shadow from all of the dirty looks he got from the monsters. Granted, not everyone shot him looks that could kill. Most people tried to politely avoid staring at Hernandez, while some even gave him cheerful waves. But enough people were visibly upset by the human's presence that it drowned out the meek positivity.

Seeing how the monster community responded to Hernandez upset Sans more than he thought it would. Asgore had pre-warned him that the monsters' opinions of humans weren't great, but it was another thing to see it with his own eyes. It was just like how the humans reacted when monsters came to the surface, though on a smaller scale. For the first time, he wondered how monsters would react if _you_ came down here. You'd never been in the Underground in your human body in this timeline; you'd only ever been there as Orion, who passed well enough for a monster, themself. Again, not that he cared about anyone's opinions, but he knew you'd care. He knew how jarring it was to be rejected by the humans when, in a twisted way, he sorta felt like he was one of them. He imagined you would feel the same if the situation was reversed.

Out of sympathy for Hernandez, Sans kept up a brisk pace through the hotel. The guard remained quiet even after they got out of the lobby and approached yet another elevator. Sans sighed almost imperceptibly, his shoulders slumping. He should've asked Pap to switch locations with him; Snowdin was so much farther away than Hotland. The worst part was knowing he'd have to lead Hernandez back the same way when it was time to leave, too. 

When they got into the second elevator, Hernandez finally spoke up again.

"Not exactly a warm reception, huh?" He grinned weakly, but Sans' expression remained neutral.

"What'd you expect?"

"Touché." Hernandez rubbed the back of his neck, then quickly braced his hand on the side of the elevator as it changed course and suddenly shot sideways. 

"Y'know, sometimes I think-" Sans started off strong, but lost steam before actually voicing his opinion. He never really expressed much of an opinion about any of this political stuff before, aside from the fact that he didn't want any part of it. Why start now? With that in mind, he glanced sideways at the guard, then shook his head and said, "Eh, nevermind." 

"No, what is it?" Hernandez pressed eagerly. Sans gritted his teeth. If you were there, you wouldn't like what he was considering saying. But you weren't there. And you'd find out he was thinking it anyway, the next time you shared souls. Didn't really matter whether or not he said it out loud.

"Sometimes I think we should all just keep to ourselves," he admitted, his palms growing sweaty inside of his pockets. "I know that's kind of, uh... Against everything you're tryin' to do, but it'd cause the least conflict." There was a beat of silence before Hernandez grunted and said,

"No, you have a point. But just because that would be the easiest thing to do doesn't make it right. That's my opinion, anyway." Hernandez shrugged and smiled down at Sans good-naturedly. "I think things'll be better in the long-term if we're proactive now. Monsters and humans will get used to seeing each other around eventually, I'm sure."

Sans hummed. He'd inherited enough knowledge of humanity's history from you to know that they could barely handle people of their own kind who looked different, let alone a whole new species altogether. Monsters, meanwhile, had no experience with anything of the sort. Those who did remember humanity only knew them for the wrongs they'd committed against monsters. Sans didn't see them getting all buddy-buddy with humans anytime soon. But he didn't want to start an argument, so he simply conceded with a quiet,

"Maybe."

As they exited the elevator, Sans felt a buzz in his pocket. Quickly, he retrieved his phone and read your message.

_How's it going?_

He tapped the side of the device, wondering how best to answer that question. Before you left, he never used to question what to say to you. It didn't pay to be anything but unfailingly honest, given that you read each other's minds every night, anyway. Now that that wasn't the case, the possibility of sugar-coating things felt more appealing.

_good. split off from the others already. still makin our way to snowdin. how you doin?_

He conveniently failed to mention the soul incident and the hostile looks from other monsters. You sent back a swift reply.

_Good. Who'd you get stuck with?_

Sans' perma-grin fell slightly. He was well aware that you were just as capable of telling white lies to him as he was to you. He wasn't stupid... He was sure you had to have started feeling the effects of your deteriorating physical condition by now; you just weren't telling him. All he could do was trust that you'd let him know before it got too bad. It was maddening. 

_hernandez. says he's comin to visit you tomorrow, just fyi._

_Tell him he doesn't have to... I'm sure he'd rather spend time with his boyfriend._

_tell him yourself._

_Jerk._

Sans' smile returned, more genuine this time. He barely noticed as he and Hernandez reached the Riverperson, who said something cryptic that he didn't pay attention to. Seeing that Sans was absorbed in his phone, Hernandez started to chat it up with the ferrier while Sans typed,

_love you, too._

_Uh huh._ Soon after that, you sent another text that read, _You shouldn't be texting me... I'll let you get back to work._

_please don't._

Sans waited for your reply, but he didn't get one. He sent several annoying "hey"'s in quick succession, but to no avail. He could almost see you rolling your eyes at his antics before shoving your phone in your pocket. It was worth it just for that mental image.

By the time Sans returned his attention to what was going on right in front of him, the boat he'd climbed into was already beginning to slow down. The air was crisp here; he saw goosebumps on Hernandez's arms. Realizing this, the human tugged on the coat that he'd slung over his arm back in Hotland, grumbling to himself about the rapid temperature changes. 

"Tra la la. Don't wander amongst the trees. You'll meet a nasty end."

"Hey, what does that mean?" Hernandez asked the Riverperson nervously. 

"Don't worry about it." Sans waved the guy off as he stepped out of the boat, his feet crunching on fresh snow. To the Riverperson, he said, "Thanks for the ride."

"Come again sometime," they intoned before gliding off down the still river once more, leaving Hernandez and Sans alone.

"Here we are," Sans announced anticlimactically. Again, he had to remind himself that he was doing this for your sake before putting in the effort to add, "Want me to show you around?"

"Yes, please!" Hernandez replied with bright, eager eyes. 

"Right. Well... Here's some... houses." He gestured half-heartedly to a cluster of homes as they came into view. No one was outside except for Ice Wolf, who was dressed in nothing but a pair of tattered jeans. Hernandez waved, to which the wolf waved back dutifully. So far, so good.

"Here's the main road," Sans said as they came to a fork in the path, "Down that way's the old house where Pap and I used to live."

"Oh!" Hernandez strained to see down the road before looking back at Sans with a grin. "Can I get a grand tour?"

"Uh..." Sans sweated as he realized that, in this timeline, he'd never actually lived in that house. If Hernandez went inside, would he notice that there was no sign Sans had ever lived there? He scrambled to think of a way to disappoint the guard without sounding rude.

"I, uh... Didn't bring a key to get in. Sorry." Sans shrugged and Hernandez clicked his tongue.

"Ah, don't worry about it. What's over there?" He pointed at the other end of town, where a couple of familiar-looking monsters sauntered into Grillby's. 

"S'a bar. Grillby makes the best burgs in the Underground... You hungry?" Sans, himself, could've gone for some food. He hadn't been eating well lately.

"I could eat," Hernandez proclaimed, then waved his hand in a gesture for Sans to lead the way. 

The moment Sans walked into the bar, he realized a fatal flaw in this plan. No one at Grillby's knew who he was. He kept forgetting stuff like that. So, of course, there was no warm reception waiting for him. No one greeted him enthusiastically when he walked through the door. No one even knew his name. He just got a lot of nervous stares as he led the human across the threshold of this too-familiar place that didn't remember him.

"Two burgs, please," Sans muttered to Grillby as he sat down on his usual stool. He couldn't even look at the man as he ordered; couldn't bare to see the blank stare he was undoubtedly receiving. Grillby made a crackling, affirmatory noise before disappearing into the back room, leaving Sans alone with Hernandez at the bar. 

They weren't alone for long. Out of the corner of his eye, Sans saw Sonya stand up from her table. She made her way over to the stool next to Hernandez and promptly sat herself down.

"Hey, there," the avian monster started talking to Hernandez, only sparing a cursory glance for Sans, "How's it going?"

"Good!" Hernandez exclaimed, clearly relieved that someone friendly was willing to chat with him. "You guys, uh, heard about the visit that's going on, I take it?" Sonya laughed heartily,

"'Course! Everyone's heard about the humans coming down here... It's the talk of the town." She extended a feathery hand, which Hernandez shook without hesitation. "Name's Sonya."

"I'm Leo... Nice to meet you." Sans raised his brows in mild surprise. He supposed he'd forgotten that the guards must've had first names. Aside from Charlie, all of the rest were on a strict, last name basis with him. 

It was only when the bird monster leaned over to look at him that Sans realized he had to introduce himself.

"Name's Sans," he grunted, offering up a lazy wave. Sonya nodded politely at him; a far cry from the usual, irreverent greeting he would've gotten before the last reset.

By the time the food came, Hernandez was knee-deep in conversation with Sonya. And by the time Sans finished eating, several other monsters had gathered around the bar to join the conversation. Sans supposed he should've been happy. You would've been, if you were there to see it. Hernandez was a likable dude... People got along with him, despite their difference in species. It was a good thing.

Sans just had to keep his mouth shut and pretend he wasn't burning with jealousy.

While everyone else was gathered around the human, a fiery figure walked up to Sans behind the counter and took his empty plate.

 _"How was the food?"_ Grillby signed, to which Sans forced a smile.

"Great." _As always,_ he thought to himself glumly. Just another friend who, as it turned out, hadn't changed at all without Sans in his life. Had he made an impact on _anyone_? Not that he wanted people to be miserable without him, but it was pretty depressing to be faced with just how useless he'd really been. He slumped over in his stool, resting his head on his hand as he watched Grillby clean the leftover ketchup off of his plate.

 _"That'll be 20G,"_ the fire elemental stated bluntly as soon as his hands were free. Sans dug in his pockets to fish out the gold. It clattered on the counter loudly, jarring Hernandez out of whatever conversation he'd been having with the bar's patrons. 

"Oh, should we get going? When are we supposed to meet back up with the others?"

"We've got time still," Sans said after glancing on the clock at the wall. However, he was quick to add, "But if you wanna see some of the other places around town, we should go."

"Right. It was nice to meet you all!" Hernandez bid the monsters goodbye. They echoed his sentiment, then dispersed to return back to their own tables. The guard glanced at the solid gold coins on the table, then rubbed the back of his neck before asking, "Er... How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it," Sans reassured him, well aware that Hernandez would probably have had to pay with his life's savings to match the conversion rate. The human looked uncomfortable with this. Sans wasn't so bitter with jealousy that he couldn't throw the guy a bone, so he reassured him, "Consider it a tip for helpin' with all of that car and apartment hunting." Not that it was his money to give away... Without even telling Sans about it, you'd instructed Asgore to give him a portion of your salary. Though he hadn't argued, Sans still tried not to spend it frivolously. He figured you would've approved of this, though. Hernandez's smile returned.

"That was no problem, really, but alright," he conceded, then waved one last time to Grillby before following Sans out of the establishment. 

Sans kept the rest of the tour as brief as possible. He was really regretting not switching locations with Papyrus now; he hated seeing all of these people he'd spent his entire adult life with looking at him like he was a stranger. It didn't help that Hernandez was so damn chatty. The guy stopped to talk to everyone who didn't openly sneer at him. Which was to say, almost everyone. The small town folk of Snowdin were, at the very least, begrudgingly accepting of their human guest. They didn't have the luxury of hiding, faceless, in a crowd. So, even if they hated humanity, they had to put on a polite face. Hernandez's friendliness turned most of the reluctant ones around on the issue, however.

They walked briskly down the street, visited the hotel and library, and eventually found themselves at the big sign welcoming them to Snowdin town. Sans stopped there, then asked tiredly,

"We could go back early, or we could take a look through the forest. What d'ya wanna do?" Hernandez bit his lip, then looked over Sans' shoulder at the trees that loomed past the bridge in the distance. 

"I guess we should look around some more. It's technically a search party, after all," he pointed out, but then shook his head and said, "Though I think I'd rather avoid, uh... 'wandering amongst the trees' for too long, if I'm being honest." Sans chuckled.

"Sure. We'll make it snappy."

Sans had lost steam long ago... Before they even made it to Snowdin, if he was being honest. So his pace was slow as he led the human into the forest, dutifully keeping to the well-worn path so as not to freak the guy out. Again, he was struck by how dumb this whole search party thing was, but whatever. He just wanted to get it done with now. 

"So... I've kinda been wondering," Hernandez started talking, as Sans figured he would, "What was that soul thing you did to Green? It was pretty weird." Sans shrugged and deflected the question as best he could.

"Just summoned his soul by mistake. Don't worry about it," he repeated Asgore's reassurance, but Hernandez didn't let up like Charlie had.

"Oh, I'm not worried about it. Just curious. It's kinda weird, y'know... People talk about souls sometimes, but I didn't think they were actual, physical things. Do all souls look like that?" Sans gritted his teeth, but tried not to let on that the twenty questions game was starting to get on his nerves. Couldn't Hernandez just walk behind him in silence for ten minutes?

"More or less. They can be different colors, depending on certain qualities of someone's personality." He anticipated Hernandez's next question and answered it before it could be asked, "Aqua means patience." The shortness of Sans' explanation didn't seem to deter the guard, however.

"Cool. Yeah, I could see that... Green's a pretty patient dude. What color is your SO's soul?" 

That question gave Sans pause. It struck him as too personal, though even he wasn't sure why. It wasn't like soul colors were some big secret; anyone who knew the basic colors and what they meant could've probably guessed yours. Or at least narrowed it down to a couple possibilities. 

"Purple. For perseverance," he answered eventually, though with some reluctance. He lifted a hand from his pocket to scratch his sternum, feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious. Hernandez picked up on it.

"Sorry, you can tell me to shut up if you want. But, um... I was kind of wondering..." He stopped walking, forcing Sans to stop, too. "...Could you summon my soul? I'd like to see it. Just once..." The man clasped his hands in front of him, looking vulnerable in a way that made his request impossible to refuse. Out of every monster, Sans was one of the few who could understand what it felt like to see one's own soul. It was affirming in a way that was difficult to describe, and impossible to replicate. Sans hummed, then turned to face the human head-on.

"If you want. It'll feel kinda invasive... You sure you want that?" Hernandez looked around as though making sure they were alone, then nodded.

"Yeah, go for it." He stood up a little straighter, his eyes sparkling with energy. Sans sighed a little, his breath pluming in front of his face.

"Okay. Brace yourself," he warned before lifting his hand to make a beckoning motion. The movement was more for Hernandez's benefit than his own, since it gave the man another, visual warning before his very soul left his body for the first time. 

Sans wasn't surprised to see a deep, green light emanating from the heart that floated in front of Hernandez. His expression softened as he watched the guy reach for his own soul, stopping just short of touching it. The genuine look of contented wonderment on his face was enough to make Sans regret ever feeling annoyed at Hernandez. It wasn't his fault that people didn't remember Sans. In fact, Sans wasn't sure who to blame for all of this going down the way it did. There were so many options... Chara. Gaster. You. Himself. But he sure as hell couldn't blame this random guard just because his old friends liked the charismatic Officer Leo Hernandez more than they liked him.

"What does it mean?" Hernandez asked softly, shaking Sans out of his funk. 

"Kindness," he answered simply, "Pretty good color, if I do say so myself."

A big smile lit up Hernandez's face. Gently, he guided his own soul back into his chest, shuddering as it disappeared into his body. The world seemed a little less bright without its colorful light illuminating the snow.

"Thanks," he said sincerely, still grinning at Sans stupidly. Sans waved him off.

"Don't mention it. Wanna head back now?"

"Sure."

Without further ado, the two of them started off back toward Snowdin. Along the way, Hernandez seemed to find his voice, and wouldn't shut up about the whole soul thing.

"Man, that was cool. I woulda never thought souls would look like that! Crazy to think that, this morning, I didn't even know souls existed, and now I've seen mine. Hey, do you think I could summon my own soul?"

"Not sure. It's considered a minor type of magic, and humans can't do magic, so probably not." The only reason Sans didn't say "no" outright was because he knew from experience that you were capable of summoning souls. Either it wasn't magic after all, or you had picked up some eclectic talents from him during your time as Orion. You hadn't shown any other signs of being able to perform magic, though, so Sans was betting that anyone could learn to summon souls if they knew what they were doing. He wasn't sure he really wanted to encourage that in Hernandez, though, so he kept things pessimistic.

"Aw, well... It was cool, anyway. The other guys are gonna be jealous they didn't get to go with you, I bet!" Hernandez nudged Sans' shoulder. Sans chuckled and ducked his head, oddly touched by the comment. 

"Oh! I forgot to ask," Hernandez piped up after Sans instructed the Riverperson to take them back to Hotland, "What color is _your_ soul?"

"It doesn't have a color." Sans kept his expression carefully blank as he lied, "Monsters' souls can't be summoned, in most cases. And the ones that can are all white."

Luckily, his carefully constructed response caused the conversation to stray away from Sans and toward the safer topic of boss monsters. The fact that Sans' soul held a touch of purple and yours, a sizable chunk of white, was a private matter between you and him. Hernandez certainly didn't need to know about that.

"Tra la la. The water is very still today," the Riverperson interrupted their conversation with what was probably the sanest thing Sans had ever heard them say. A moment later, they arrived at the Hotland port. Sans and Hernandez both thanked their ferrier again and made their way back to the elevator. When they reached the now less-crowded hotel, they ran into a couple of familiar faces.

"Brother! You have returned! Did you go on any exciting adventures???" Pap clenched his hands into fists, excited to hear whatever tale Sans had to tell. Sans tried to wrack his brain for something interesting to say, but there wasn't much. They hadn't really done anything out of the ordinary.

"Nah, not so much. Went to Grillby's. Saw the sights. Nothin' too spectacular."

"BAH! Grillby's?!? Disgusting!" Pap complained, then turned to Hernandez, "Human, I am so sorry my brother subjected you to that awful, greasy establishment! Please, I implore you to forgive this transgression!"

"I thought it was pretty good," Hernandez said with a shrug. Exasperated, Papyrus threw up his arms and shrieked,

"NO!!! YOU BOTH HAVE SUCH AWFUL TASTE! HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE!!!" Looking awkward, Green reached up and patted Papyrus on the shoulder. That, more than anything, made Sans laugh. 

"Hey, Green... Sans did that soul thing to me," Hernandez said, making a wiggly motion with his hand as if to convey the magic he'd done. "Crazy, huh?"

"Hernandez asked me to," Sans quickly clarified before his brother could do more than shoot him a disapproving look. Before Hernandez could go into more detail, four more figures approached from the hotel's entrance.

"There you are," Charlie said, "We were waiting for you guys outside."

"We should start heading back," Asgore announced as soon as he joined the group, "Some of the guards need to catch the helicopter back to the city, and we are running a tad late, it seems." 

"NOT ON MY WATCH!!!" Undyne exclaimed before grabbing Daujatas and hoisting her onto her shoulders. Clearly, this had happened at least once already, because the guard didn't seem fazed. In fact, she laughed and shook her head, her cheeks red with embarrassment as the leader of the Royal Guard carried her piggy-back style. Sans wondered what the hell could've happened to make those two such fast friends. 

"TO THE ELEVATOR!" Undyne shouted, pointing forward before taking off to the other side of the room at a jog. Sans hung back, figuring he and Papyrus would probably wait for the next elevator if the guards had to get back fast. However, he was surprised when Hernandez walked up to him instead of following his coworkers.

"Hey, uh, just for the record... You don't have to call me by my last name. 'Hernandez' is such a mouthful. It's Leo to you." He nudged Sans' shoulder again. Sans blinked in surprise, then gave him a lazy, mock salute.

"Sure thing, Leo." With that, the guard returned his salute, turned around, and sprinted to catch up to the other humans. Sans was left wondering how the hell he'd managed to make a new friend while he'd been so busy mourning the loss of the old ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this, I almost feel like Sans has more chemistry with Hernandez than Reed XD
> 
> Notice that there's 7 human OCs (Reives, Wolfe, Charlie, Hernandez, Daujatas, Samuelsson, Green) and 7 soul colors. Imagine that ;)
> 
> By the way... I set this fic series to take place in the future, but I've been writing it for so long that we've reached the point where it's starting to take place in the present. For example, I posted about this on tumblr when it was relevant, but, in my timeline of events, Reed first fell into the Underground on May 6th, 2018. As of posting this chapter (May 16th), Reed is currently staying with the skeleton bros between chapters 6 and 7 of TUYS! I'll probably continue to keep you updated on what's going on in-universe as time progresses, lol


	22. A Better Place

After Frisk's running away incident, everything got both easier and harder. Easier, in the sense that Frisk became much more cooperative. They took the idea of the two of you being a team to heart, and treated this stint in North Ebott more like an important mission than an indefinite separation from home. You were happy to go along with it. Together, you approached mornings like some kind of covert operations debrief as you each discussed what you planned on doing that day.

"We're running low on eggs... Looks like I'll have to make an expedition to the grocery store."

I have a times table quiz today!

"Quite the undertaking. Godspeed."

That was all well and good, but no amount of camaraderie between you and Frisk could've improved your health. You got worse and worse, to the point where you couldn't stand at all, even for short periods with help from your cane. You were in the wheelchair full-time. You were forced to knock yourself out with Nyquil every night just to be able to get some sleep through the pain. And not just that, but you had begun to experience more troubling side-effects than just the amplification of your usual woes. You were nauseous, losing weight, and your skin was so pale that it was almost blue. You didn't know how much longer you could justify not telling Sans about this.

It was on a bleak, Friday afternoon that the decision was made for you. You'd had to get up earlier than usual that day to be able to make a before-class meeting with Frisk's teacher. Even after the meeting, you weren't sure Mrs. Brown fully understood that she couldn't keep trying to get Frisk to talk during class. It didn't help that you didn't even know why the kid never spoke, but you didn't think you should've had to provide a reason. At least you'd managed to persuade the teacher to lay off of the kid, though they did sternly advise you to get Frisk an appointment with a child therapist. Maybe she had a point.

After struggling to pack yourself and your wheelchair back into the Jeep, you were slumped over the steering wheel trying to catch your breath when your pants began to vibrate. You flinched before digging your bulky, monster-made phone out of your pocket, only to immediately brighten up when it informed you that "Bone Boy" was calling.

"Miss me already?" you joked. You and Sans talked every morning; calling him was the first thing you did when you woke up. You suspected it was the only thing getting Sans out of bed before noon. "I gotta say, I-"

"The road's open," Sans interrupted you bluntly. It took you a moment to process what he was telling you.

"It is?!" you gasped as you raised your free hand to check the date on your watch. The humans had been consistently cagey about exactly when the road was supposed to be finished, but this was much earlier than you'd been expecting.

"I'm waiting," Sans said, his voice light in a way you hadn't heard him sound in weeks. You bit your lip and clenched your fingers over the steering wheel before giving him the bad news.

"Frisk's in school... I have to wait for them to get let out." Sans' voice turned immediately darker as he growled under his breath,

"Just pull them out of class. Say they're sick, or that the family pet died. I don't care." Your eyes flicked to glance at the school. There was a pause before you replied resolutely,

"No, I can't do that. People are watching me, remember? Social services... The FBI... Whoever. They're looking for an excuse to take Frisk away from me. I can't just pull them out of school to take a trip up the mountain. They'll know." You weren't sure if it was just your imagination, but you thought you heard Sans grinding his teeth together on the other end of the line. Eventually, though, he relented.

"Right. You're right. Just... get up here as soon as you can, okay?"

"I'll see you later today," you assured him with a smile. Sans' voice regained its lightness as he said,

"Good. Love ya."

"Love you, too."

As always, you hung up on him. If you didn't, he'd just stay on the line forever. You put your phone in a cup holder, drumming your fingers on the steering wheel with pent-up energy. What could you possibly do for eight hours while you waited for Frisk to be let out of school? 

Well, if you were going up to the mountain today, then you sure as hell weren't coming back until Sunday night, at the earliest. That meant you needed to pack for the weekend. 

With that decided, you started your vehicle and headed on back to the apartment. On the way, you had to stop on the side of the road several times to answer incoming calls. From Asgore, Toriel... Even Charlie, who had come down from his tower specifically to borrow Papyrus' phone. They were all excited to tell you the news, though they were baffled as to how Sans had managed to beat them all to it. Charlie, however, had some idea.

"Hernandez must've told him first. He was the first one to drive up the road... The guy doesn't even work today. I guess he just wanted to make sure it was safe."

You felt a pang in your chest. That was... awfully nice of him. "What did he have to say about it?" you asked Charlie while waving sheepishly at a car that was backing out of the driveway you were illegally parked next to. 

"It's pretty narrow, he said. Could get dangerous when it's icy, but you should be fine today."

Eventually, you did make it back to the apartment. You packed your own duffle bag with clothes, tugging Sans' mended, blue sweatshirt over your shoulders as an afterthought. You usually just slept with it, but you had a feeling Sans would like to see you wearing it. It was a bit small on you, but you didn't much care.

There was one problem with your plan. If you wanted to go straight from picking Frisk up to driving to camp, you had to pack Frisk's clothes for them. You never usually went in their room without an invitation; you felt it was good for the kid to have their privacy. But saving those extra twenty-or-so minutes was important enough to you that you broke your self-imposed rule, pushing the door open with one of your feet and wheeling yourself up to their dresser to grab whatever clothes you saw them wearing the most often.

While blindly digging through Frisk's top drawer from your seated position, you felt a sharp prick on your finger. You hissed and drew your hand back, only to find a nasty papercut on your index finger. It was bleeding a little. Ordinarily, that wouldn't have been a big deal. However, you knew from the bruise on your hip that hadn't shown any signs of clearing up a full week after you'd fallen on the steps that you didn't heal like you used to. It was lucky you were going to see Papyrus later today, otherwise you would've been legitimately afraid of slowly bleeding out from a stupid paper cut.

You sucked on the injured finger to avoid getting blood everywhere while you reached in more carefully with your left hand, searching for the offending paper. When you pulled it out form underneath a pile of socks, you saw that it was one of Frisk's drawings. You could tell from the poorly-drawn wheelchair that the figure on the left was supposed to be you, while the smaller person on the right was probably the kid, themself. It must've been drawn recently, since both of you were depicted with bald heads. 

You flipped it over, knowing that Frisk liked to name their drawings on the back. Sure enough, the caption "LG and Me" was written in alternating purple and red crayons. LG... You knew from having studied the sign language alphabet that LG was Frisk's shorthand for your name, though you never knew why. Somehow, seeing it written out made it click for you.

"Legal guardian," you muttered to yourself with a smile. Carefully, you replaced the paper under its pile of socks, then wheeled yourself out of the room to go find a bandaid before you bled all over Frisk's clothes.

The rest of the day dragged on endlessly. You were all packed and ready to go long before 3:30 rolled around. With your nervous energy, you cleaned the apartment, filled your car up with gas, and constantly checked in with Sans to make sure the road was still open for business. It got to the point where Sans basically lived in the Northwest tower for the day, he and Charlie trading off using his binoculars to watch their limited view of the road as curious cars drove up and down it. They all gave up and turned around long before making it to camp; the road was too long and winding. No one's curiosity was that strong. 

Finally, you found yourself waiting outside of Frisk's school, your heart racing as you watched all of the kids burst out from the front doors. You'd gotten there so early that you were the very first parent in the pick-up line. This was unprecedented, so it took Frisk a minute to find your car. 

"The road's done," you said as soon as they opened the passenger door, "Wanna go see your mom and dad?"

A huge smile lit up Frisk's face. They nodded their head vigorously and tossed their backpack in the back seat before slamming the door. You only waited long enough for them to buckle up before taking off, your tires screeching as you hurried to get out of the parking lot. 

Both you and Frisk practically bounced in your seats for the whole two-hour ride. Frisk was in charge of your phone; whenever someone called, they'd put them on speaker so you could talk while you drove. It was almost always Sans calling to ask for an update on how far out you were. Dutifully, you described exactly where you were each time. Just getting on the highway. Just passed mile marker seven. At the state border. On the off-ramp. It got harder once you were on the new road, as there weren't really any distinguishing features anymore. It was just you and Frisk, surrounded by trees, on your way up a steep incline. Sans announced excitedly when he was able to catch a brief glimpse of your red jeep near the base of the mountain but, although you had covered most of the horizontal distance between you and Sans already, the most arduous part was closing the vertical gap. You had to drive slowly on the winding road, constantly trying to hide how tense you were from Frisk as you shot repeated, nervous glances at the cliff face to your right. You didn't think you could've mustered the courage to drive on this road, especially in the slushy, late February snow, had the reward for doing so not been so great.

When you weren't on the phone, you and Frisk jammed along to the radio. Or at least, you jammed along while Frisk bobbed their head and tapped their feet. You thought you heard them humming once, which put a smile on your face. You made a mental note of the song that was playing at the time. Maybe you could make them a CD, or something.

Inevitably, though, the radio cut out once you got too far up the mountain. The rest of the drive passed in anticipatory silence. Eventually... _finally_... you passed something man-made. It was a house that looked like a larger version of the identical camp houses. The crude, dirt helipad in the front yard allowed you to recognize it as the house the officers used as a base when they were off-duty. You were close.

A little ways up the road was another building that you'd never seen before. It was a gated checkpoint situated along the border. It seemed silly to you that the checkpoint would have a gate when the rest of the border was fence-free, though you supposed the trees acted as enough of a barrier to at least prevent vehicles from entering the camp any other way. You rolled down your window as you approached the gate, pleasantly surprised to see Green manning the checkpoint.

"Long time, no see," he grunted as he slid open the window on the small, wooden structure he was holed up in. 

"Yeah," you said with an incredulous laugh. You stared past the gate longingly, where you could see your friends emerging from their houses, preparing to greet you.

"I need some ID... It's protocol," Green said apologetically. You dug in your pocket and handed over your driver's license. Green typed something into an ancient-looking laptop before giving it back to you. "Welcome back."

"Thanks." Your gratitude was drowned out by the loud, screeching sound of the gate opening. You sped through the threshold faster than you intended, kicking up clods of dirt and snow with your back tires as you went.

Next thing you knew, you were being bombarded by friendly faces. You couldn't even make out individual voices as people swarmed around your car. You were forced to throw it into park in the middle of the road, lest you risk running over your friends. You saw a lot of fur as the dog guard bounded around you and Frisk, their tails wagging as they each vyed to be the first to greet you both.

"HUMAN! YOU HAVE RETURNED!!!" Papyrus' voice reached you over the babble. "OH MY GOD, I LOVE YOUR CAR!!! OH, TINY HUMAN! HELLO!" he said to Frisk as they threw open the passenger door, running around the front of the vehicle to give Papyrus a quick hug. After that, they promptly leaped into their mother's arms, shaking with sobs as they buried their face in her fur.

"I am very glad you are back." Asgore placed a hearty pat on your shoulder through your still-open window before passing you by to greet Frisk. You nodded numbly, your knuckles white as you continued to grip the steering wheel.

Now that you were there, it was like whatever resolve had been holding you together for the past weeks had suddenly unraveled. You couldn't move... Could hardly even breathe. Air rattled in your chest as you forced yourself to inhale and exhale. You felt like a corpse; a decomposing body that had been sitting there with a death-grip on that steering wheel for centuries. 

Only one voice was capable of breaking you out of that trance.

"Hey." Movement out of the corner of eye made you turn your head, your neck cracking in protest even from that small motion. The first thing you saw were his fingers clutching the open window, then his eyes as he looked you over searchingly. Wide-eyed, you opened your mouth to greet him back, but what came out instead was a croaked plea.

"I need help."

Sans leaned into the window, standing on his toes in order to do so. Behind him, everyone had gathered around Frisk. Their eyes were still red, but they looked like they'd mostly recovered as they now sat in Asgore's arms, signing something enthusiastically to anyone who would listen. It seemed like everyone had either momentarily forgotten about you, or they were trying to give you and Sans some space. 

"What d'you need?" Sans asked you in a whisper. His intense gaze roved from your bald head, to the dark bruises under your eyes, to the splotches of blood on your hand from where you'd gripped your own finger as your mild papercut bled through its bandaid.

"Backseat," you instructed him in an equally quiet tone. Obediently, Sans left you to open the backdoor. You closed your eyes while you listened. There was a moment of silence as he paused, then the clatter of metal when he hefted the wheelchair out of the back of the Jeep. 

"You shoulda told me," he said while struggling to unfold the janky chair. The task was made more difficult by the fact that he was also holding your cane in one hand.

"I know," you admitted. Now that you made it back, you couldn't deny that you'd let this go on for far too long. You'd put yourself in unnecessary, life-or-death danger just to avoid the slim possibility that Sans might get caught teleporting. It was a little scary to be faced with just how much you were willing to sacrifice for him.

You and Sans didn't exchange any further words. You knew he wasn't mad at you, just resigned. Neither of you could feel happy or even relieved at your reunion until you were healed. Only once the wheelchair was set up did Sans open the driver's side door for you. He unbuckled your seatbelt with one hand and touched your left wrist with the other. Knowing instinctively what he was instructing you to do, you pried your fingers off of the steering wheel and wrapped your weak, thin arms around his neck. He lifted you out of the car too easily, transferring you into the wheelchair with more care than you ever showed yourself.

At that point, Papyrus looked over his shoulder and saw what was happening. He bounded over to you in two, long strides. In his usual, loud whisper, he asked,

"Human, are you okay?" You couldn't find it in you to answer. You bowed your head and slumped back in the chair, exhausted. Sans handed you your cane to hold as he spoke for you.

"They need you, bro. Let's get 'em inside, 'kay?"

Papyrus said nothing in response, though you heard his light steps as he walked beside you while Sans pushed your chair. He wheeled you up to the nearest house, using his blue magic to lift you and your chair up the front porch steps. The sounds of celebration and barking in the street abruptly cut off when the door slammed behind you.

Everything from that point onward was a bit of a blur. You were only vaguely aware as Sans and Papyrus situated you on the couch, working silently to make sure you were comfortable before Papyrus put his hands on your head. A shock of warmth spread through your body, and you jolted to awareness with a sharp gasp. The world regained its color in an instant. Strength flooded your muscles, which twitched violently in response. You sat suddenly upright, no longer needing to lean on Papyrus for support. The necromancer moved with you, keeping a tight grip on your bald head until he was done. The orange glow that framed you from behind slowly dissipated as Papyrus finished his task.

"Feeling better?" he asked you sympathetically, leaning around to look at your face. You blinked, flexed your fingers, and smiled.

"A lot. Thanks, Pap." You grew concerned when Papyrus didn't smile back. He rubbed the back of his head before saying half-heartedly,

"Nyeh... Of course..." You frowned, then turned around to face the skeleton more fully.

"What's wrong?" 

"Nothing!" Papyrus answered too quickly. When you continued to stare at him, he added nervously, "Well, you just looked awfully... unwell! And I was thinking... Um... It's kind of my fault???"

"No, Papyrus, it's not-" "Bro, you can't think-"

"But it is!" Papyrus cried, cutting you and Sans off abruptly, "I am the one who brought you back! I should have done a better job! Now you are dependent on me, and it is not fair to you..."

Sans shot you a look from where he was sitting on the edge of the coffee table. You'd thought you and Papyrus were over this... That you'd silently agreed not to talk about it. You should've known that Papyrus wasn't like Sans. He couldn't just bury things like this and never bring them into the light. Gaster's words about Papyrus' incompetence echoed in your mind... It broke your heart that, without even having to hear it from his father, Papyrus had been thinking the same things about himself.

"It's not your fault," you said resolutely, "This is just the way it is. We always knew there'd be consequences for splitting Orion, but we wanted to do it, anyway. And having to rely on you is definitely _not_ the worst thing that could've happened." You smiled at Papyrus again but, when he still didn't look convinced, Sans added,

"Technically, it's my fault for killing them, in the first place." Sans' tone of voice was way too casual for the content of his words, which made Papyrus narrow his eyes in disapproval. 

"...And it's my fault for asking you to," you mentioned. You and Sans shared a look before he continued,

"See, we can't keep blamin' everyone. It'll never end. We just gotta move forward, m'kay?"

"Well... I guess you're right." Papyrus sighed dramatically. "But, at the very least, you must let me make you some apology spaghetti! Perhaps I could even try my hand at a cake!!! It cannot possibly be that difficult, right?!?"

You snorted at the mental image of a 'sorry for not quite bringing you back from the dead all the way' cake. A huge grin split Sans' face. That could only mean one thing...

"Yeah, bro. Baking's pretty easy... In fact, I'd say it's a _piece of cake._ " 

With that, the mood in the room lightened considerably. Papyrus screeched at the pun while you and Sans laughed. Sans reached over and plucked at the sleeve of the stitched-up blue sweatshirt you were wearing.

"Nice sweater. Where'd ya get it?"

"My boyfriend gave it to me," you answered smugly, to which Sans quirked a brow and joked,

"Oh? So you move to the big city for less than a month, and you already found someone new. I see how it is."

"Yup. He's taller than you," you played along. Sans held your hand in his and stood up to tower over you.

"Wow. Didn't know size mattered so much to you." You broke, unable to hold in your laughter anymore.

"SANS! YOU DISGUST ME!" The terror on Sans' face as he realized that Papyrus understood the dirty joke only made you howl louder. That was how Toriel, Asgore, Undyne, Alphys, and Frisk found you when the front door swung open and they each crossed the threshold one by one.

"Oh dear, did we miss a good joke?" Toriel lamented. Frisk let go of their mom's hand to run up and hug Sans, the one person who they hadn't gotten to greet yet. Sans got over his shock enough to pat the kid on the head.

That was around when the reunion really began. You all sat crammed together in the living room as you caught up with each other. You wouldn't have thought there'd be much to say, since you talked to all of your friends on the phone practically daily. But you found plenty of things to talk about. Frisk, in particular, had a lot of stories to tell about school. Meanwhile, you showed everyone pictures of your apartment and joked about some of the more benign, dumb things you'd heard the morning news anchors say about you, Frisk, and the monsters. Undyne and Alphys told a story about the hilariously terrible date they'd gone on last night, while Papyrus updated you on the new neighbors who had moved into some of the empty camp houses.

Sans was mostly silent, offering nothing but a few quips every now and then. He sat next to you on the couch, his arm around your shoulders as you talked animatedly with your hands. You both knew there was no point in verbally updating each other about your lives. You'd get around to that when you were alone.

Before you could do that, though, Papyrus desperately wanted a ride in your car. You left your wheelchair behind as you went outside to talk to Green at the checkpoint, asking if you could take some of the monsters for a short ride down the road and back. You weren't surprised when the idea was apologetically shot down. Instead, you drove Papyrus and the other monsters up and down the freshly-paved road in front of the camp houses. When Sans took a turn in the passenger's seat, you felt an unexpectedly fierce warmth light up your chest. Something about seeing him there beside you in the car just _felt_ right. You may have gone a little fast that time around, very nearly making poor Toriel lose her lunch in the backseat.

When you declared that you needed to stop so as to save gas for the trip back, your big group splintered off to go their separate ways. You all made plans to hang out again tomorrow, but only you, Sans, Frisk, and Toriel headed over to the Queen's place for a late dinner. The meal passed by uneventfully; you were all quite tired and had no more stories to tell. Before you left, though, Frisk stood up from the table to wrap their arms around your waist. 

_"Thank you,"_ they signed. You smiled softly and shook your head.

"Don't thank me yet... This whole thing isn't over." You pointed back and forth between you and Frisk, then let your hand drop as you patted them on the shoulder. "Besides, it's been a team effort."

They squeezed you one last time before letting go, waving at you and Sans cheerfully as the two of you headed back to your own house. You held hands as you trekked through the dirty, mucky snow together, figuring it was useless to keep trying to hide your relationship from the gossipy camp guards at this point. As soon as you got through the door, Sans led you by the hand directly to the bedroom. You'd been hoping to take a shower first, but it was clear that Sans wasn't going to allow that. He needed to do this right now.

Both of your shirts came off, though you didn't waste time with the pants. Sans tugged you down onto the bed and placed a hand on your bare chest, looking up at you for silent permission. You gave it with a curt nod. He summoned your soul, then stared at its white and purple glow with a reverent expression that sent a shiver down your spine before reaching out to guide the oversized soul forward until it touched his sternum.

Your memories were hazy with pain. It lanced through you as though it were happening all over again, building in intensity as visions flashed behind your eyelids. A strangled cry escaped you, your arms flailing as though trying to physically fend off the agony. You vaguely registered Sans' hands snatching up your wrists, pinning them in front of your chest to prevent you from hurting yourself as you sobbed.

"Shh... I'm sorry. It's over now," Sans reassured you in a quiet voice. Sure enough, your visions quickly caught up to the present. The illness you had been reliving was resigned to nothing more than a distant memory.

 _May I?_ You asked in your mind as your hand sluggishly moved to Sans' ribs. Your soul shifted slightly to accommodate the position. 

"You never have to ask," Sans muttered. You complied by drawing out his soul, letting it drift toward your own on its own accord. 

When they touched, you were assaulted by Sans' side of this whole ordeal. His memories of the past weeks were dominated by crushing loneliness. He lived moment to moment just staring at his phone, waiting for you to call or text. Even just the rapid-fire recap of this experience seemed to drag on forever. You ached with the monotony of it, which was broken up only by the occasional forced outings that Papyrus and Toriel insisted on Sans partaking in. By the time it was over, the light from Sans' soul was dim from shame. Even he couldn't joke away the pit of depressed inactivity he'd allowed himself to fall into.

 _It's okay,_ you thought to him reassuringly as tears rolled down your cheeks, _It'll be better now. We'll do better._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :'D
> 
> "Kindness" is so long that I kind of have it broken up into 3 sub-parts in my mind... This is the end of the first sub-part. The next set of chapters will address some things that several people have been asking me to address for a very long time, so get hyped for that!
> 
> I finally finished the complete outline for this fic, which is why there's now a chapter limit. It's looking like 56 total (pray for me lol). I highly doubt it'll be any longer than that, though it might get slightly shorter as there's a couple places where I may have to combine some chapters if they end up being too short.
> 
> Since I started writing this fic again, I've had a goal of writing 750 words per day. If you want to watch my progress, I'm keeping track of the daily word count [here](https://www.pacemaker.press/users/sierrasteiner/plans/take-a-recount). The number of days/total word count is arbitrary at the moment, though I'll update it when I have a better idea of exactly how long it'll take me to finish.
> 
> Don't judge me for my word count yesterday... That was the day I finished the outline, so I was technically working on the fic still XD


	23. Not One of Us

Now that you and Frisk were back where you belonged, everything felt like it was finally going to be okay again. You woke up the next morning in your own bed, in a room bathed in soft, lilac light. Your dreams had been painless and blissful. You and Sans spent a long time lying there with the sheets tangled around your legs, content to stay in bed for a while as you experienced each other. It was only when a knock sounded from the front door that you reluctantly separated, Sans grumbling to himself as he threw on yesterday's discarded shirt before going to answer the door. In the meantime, you rode out the wave of familiar nausea that accompanied the separation of your two souls.

As you slowly got yourself dressed (In clean clothes, mind you... You cared a bit more about how you smelled than Sans obviously did), you heard distinctive voices in the kitchen. So you weren't surprised when you emerged from the bedroom to find Alphys, Undyne, and Papyrus at your table while Sans leaned against the counter.

"Mornin'," you mumbled as you headed over to the coffee maker. Well, as you headed over to where the coffee maker _should've_ been, because it wasn't there anymore. You forgot that you took it with you when you moved to the city. Sans didn't drink coffee unless you were drinking it, so there had been no point in him keeping it while you were gone. You let out a distressed whimper, your outstretched hand slowly lowering.

"MORNING?!? It's almost noon!" Undyne complained before smacking her open palm on the table. "I thought we were going to hang out today?"

"Ah, right." You scratched the back of your head, where a little bit of hair stubble was beginning to come in. "Was there something you guys had in mind?" Papyrus was the first to speak up,

"YES! King Asgore had the idea that we should all go window shopping in New Home! That sounds so exciting... I've never bought a window before!" 

"Pap, that's not-" you started to explain, but Sans cut you off,

"Hey, y'know the two guys who work at the window shop?" Papyrus turned around in his chair to look at Sans.

"No! Who?"

"Curt n' Rod." Sans winked at his brother, who joined in a chorus of groans from the table. 

"SANS! You were doing so well, too... Before yesterday, I hadn't heard a single pun out of you in WEEKS! What happened?!?" Papyrus complained. Sans' smile fell a little before his eyes flicked to glance quickly at you. 

"No clue. Personally, I'd take my genius puns as a win, 'dough." Undyne and Papyrus screamed in protest, though you had to cover your mouth to hide a smile. That one got a cute little giggle out of Alphys, too. Judging by the murderous look Undyne was shooting Sans, Alphys' reaction was probably the only reason she didn't stand up from the table and come after him for the terrible joke. Instead, she merely pointed a finger at you both and said,

"You better be ready to go in _five_ minutes... We're meeting at Asgore's house! Be there or be square, punks!" She slammed her palms on the table one last time before getting up to leave. Papyrus and Alphys followed her out.

"S-see you in a bit!"

"DON'T BE LATE!!!"

You cringed as Papyrus slammed the front door behind him. You opened your mouth to complain about the lack of coffee, but found yourself distracted as Sans side-stepped, moving smoothly to bracket you into the counter with his hands.

"What?" you asked with a smile, thinking you might already know what was up. Sure enough, he stood up on his toes to plant a kiss on your lips.

"Just realized I haven't done that yet. Sorry 'bout the oversight." You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling. Your heart fluttered in your chest. He could be so cute sometimes... Damn him. You reached up to cradle the back of his head, your thumb rubbing over the tiny hole in his skull. Without further ado, you returned his kiss with one of your own.

"I'll forgive you if you forgive me," you replied. His eyelids drooped in that way they did when he was relaxed, giving him an almost squinty-eyed appearance. He hummed, as though contemplating the offer.

"Sounds fair."

Just then, you had the sudden urge to do something that was objectively ill-advised. He was always the one holding you up, supporting your weight... You kinda wanted to turn the tables. With a swift motion, you reached down and grabbed him under the legs. As a skeleton, he was light enough that you were delighted to find yourself perfectly capable of lifting him. He clutched your neck as you spun him around and deposited him on top of the counter. Sans was so surprised that he let out a high-pitched yelp, the likes of which you'd never heard out of him before. You'd planned on kissing him again once you had him up there, but all you could do was bow your head and laugh at the noise he'd made. 

"Why?!?" he asked, joining in on your laughter with incredulity.

"Just felt like it, I guess," you said, then looked up at him with a spark of humor in your eyes. "Thought you might appreciate the change in perspective." 

"Really? Another height joke? Seems like you're the one who's insecure, buddy." He poked you between the eyes. You stuck your tongue out at him. Before things could get too silly, Sans covered your ears with both of his palms and tilted your head up to kiss you again. You sighed contentedly, but he pulled back before you wanted him to.

"You must be feelin' good, huh?" he asked, his eyes roving over your body with an intense expression. One healing session from Papyrus wasn't going to fix you completely; you were still underweight, and your skin was rather pale. But you weren't in any pain for once, which might as well have been a miracle in your eyes.

"Great," you assured him. He lowered his hand to tap your right arm.

"Cane's still in the room," he pointed out. You shrugged.

"I didn't feel like I needed it to walk around the house today." Sans searched your expression, then said more sternly,

"You should bring it." You scoffed.

"I will!" Speaking of that, you looked at your watch. You'd wasted several of your five, precious minutes already. "We gotta go..." You pulled away from Sans abruptly and dashed for the bathroom, then leaned back out of the doorway to add as an afterthought, "You've _got_ to change your clothes... You can't wear the same thing as yesterday!"

"Aye aye, captain."

Even after having rushed through your morning routine, you and Sans were still late to Asgore's house. Everyone was already filing out by the time the two of you approached.

"Finally! We were just about to come and get you!" Undyne complained. Wordlessly, Alphys passed you a thermos. You took a sip out of it and were delighted to find it full of blessed caffeine. She must've brewed you coffee from her machine.

"Oh my god, you're the best," you praised her, to which she stammered,

"N-no problem!" 

Your large party of eight chatted merrily amongst each other as you made your way into the mountain and through Asgore's old house. In between arguing with Undyne about what constitutes a "good" TV show and trying to explain streaming services like Netflix and Hulu to Alphys, you noticed something interesting about Asgore and Toriel. They were _talking_ to each other. You couldn't hear what they were saying since they were at the head of the group while you trailed behind, but judging by their expressions they seemed to be just... chatting. Something must've changed between them while you were gone, because there was no way Toriel would've struck up a pleasant conversation with Asgore before. Or maybe it was something that had been changing slowly over the past seven months since the barrier broke. Whatever the case, you were glad to see them talking again.

Once you made it to the elevator, you started to get excited. Of all of the areas of the Underground, downtown New Home was really the only place you'd never been. Not as Orion, not in the previous timeline, and not even in the game of Undertale. Yet still, you had plenty of memories of it. It was where Sans grew up, after all. He knew every store front and back alley and, therefore, you at least had a vague idea of where everything was. 

There was something different about actually seeing these things with your own eyes, though. When you stepped out of the elevator and into the town square, you were surprised at how _big_ everything felt. There wasn't necessarily room for tall skyscrapers like those that could be found in North Ebott, but there were multi-story buildings that reached all the way up to the roof of the cave. Artificial, magical sunlight made everything look far too bright compared to the dark, overcast sky you just left behind on the surface. Monsters of all shapes and sizes bustled past as you, Sans, Papyrus, and Asgore shuffled out of the way. 

The four of you stood around near the edge of the square for a while as you waited for the rest of your group to arrive in the next elevator. You bounced on your heels, eyes flicking around as you tried to look at everything at once. There was just so much to see... The Nice Cream guy selling his wares in the middle of the square, the little (but still massive) jet airplane throwing a tantrum while her parents tried to console her, the mouse-like construction workers scurrying to repair a broken store window while a sharply-dressed fish-man apologized profusely, and much more.

"Looks like they had to go window shopping, too!" Papyrus declared. Thinking fast, you clamped a hand over Sans' mouth before he could start punning again. While Sans struggled to escape you, Asgore explained,

"Oh, I do not believe anyone is buying an actual window, Papyrus. Window shopping means we are simply browsing different stores." Now more interested in winning this spontaneous wrestling match than listening to the conversation, you decided to start playing dirty. You placed your cane strategically in front of Sans so that, in order to escape, he'd have to kick it out from under you. You knew he would never do that, so he was trapped.

"WHEW!" Papyrus exclaimed in relief, "THIS IS GREAT NEWS! I do not know where I would have put an extra window!" Passersby started shooting you angry looks when they saw that you had Sans in a headlock, so you quickly let him go. That probably hadn't looked good... The big, bad human picking on the little skeleton. But Sans was grinning when he twisted away from you.

"Rude. You made me forget my joke." Your smile returned as you shrugged.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Now that you were less enamored by your surroundings, you noticed people were still staring at you, even when you didn't appear to be bullying Sans. You shouldn't have been surprised. You heard about how it had gone the last time humans had been brought into the Underground. Sans' experience with Hernandez had been tame compared to the hostility the other guards had been subjected to. Hell, Undyne had been forced to physically defend Daujatas against a group of rowdy, pissed-off teenagers in Waterfall. It wasn't like this was a new phenomenon... Through the rose-colored glasses of Undertale, it was easy to forget that Frisk had been attacked by monsters at every turn. Opinions toward humanity were even worse now that the barrier was broken and they still weren't allowed on the surface. So you shouldn't have been surprised that most people weren't friendly toward you, but it still hurt a little. You'd butted heads with human protesters plenty of times, but you'd only experienced the monster side of things once; when you'd talked down that angry mob months ago. But you had been wearing the body of a monster at the time... You didn't think your words would mean as much to these people anymore.

You squinted up at Asgore, who had on a stern expression as he watched over the New Home crowd. You might not have thought about how the monsters would feel about you going window shopping, but the King never would've made such an oversight. Asgore had suggested this whole thing, hadn't he? You were starting to think he had some ulterior motives that you hadn't considered before.

All of the sudden, you felt very much like how you'd felt being Orion on the field trip to South Ebott. You felt like you belonged here as surely as your monster entourage did, but that wasn't how anyone else saw things. Even as the rest of your friends joined you and surrounded you with cheerful conversation, you felt isolated. 

As all eight of you began walking down one of the main roads, Sans nudged you with his shoulder. You smiled at him but, for once, you didn't feel comforted by his presence. Surprisingly, it was only when Frisk skipped up to you and held your hand that you began to feel better. Sure, the kid had been attacked by everyone they met down here, but they also eventually managed to win over every single monster who had once hated them. Even Undyne, who was currently snarling at anyone who dared look at you sideways. You just had to approach the monsters in the same way you'd implored the monsters to approach the humans; with patience and kindness.

Only after coming to that conclusion were you finally able to enjoy the outing with your friends. You held your head up high and smiled at passing monsters. Most of them ignored you, but you got a few tentative smiles back. You "oohed" and "ahhed" at the various shops you passed, even going in a couple to check out their wares. You talked to the reptilian owner of a candy shop, discussing the differences between monster candy and human candy. The store owner thought you could make good money if you brought human candies down here to sell, but you just laughed that idea off. You didn't think that would be terribly ethical.

The thermos of coffee Alphys had given you was quickly depleted as you sipped on it between stores. The aftertaste left your mouth feeling dry. Therefore, you were relieved when you spotted a water cooler across the street. The rest of your party was looking at a unicycle on display in a store's window, betting on who could ride it the furthest. While they argued, you crossed the street over to the water cooler and began to fill up your thermos. Once it was full, you raised the bottle to take a long, satisfying drink.

Just as you were about to swallow, something heavy rammed into your shoulder. You spluttered and coughed, spilling water all down the front of your shirt. If you hadn't brought your cane, you would've been knocked clean off your feet. As it was, you whirled around just in time to see a furry, green monster pushing past you. You would've assumed it was an accident, however...

"Traitor," the monster hissed at you in a low voice. You blinked in surprise, but came to your senses fast enough to call after him,

"Hey, wait... What do you mean?" You might've expected to hear that sort of name-calling from a human, but a monster? What had you ever done to betray them? Slowly, the green monster stopped and turned around to face you with his one, huge eye. 

"You're a traitor to your own species. Monsters and humans shouldn't mingle... You should stick with your own kind, and we'll stick with ours." 

You flinched. Not because you were shocked, or anything... Quite the opposite. It hurt because you'd heard the same sentiment before. In Sans' mind. Not as hostile, obviously, but it was the same principle as what he'd said to Hernandez during the search party. 

Speaking of Sans, you searched for him across the street. Your little confrontation was starting to draw a crowd, but none of your friends had come to your rescue. You could see why; everyone had gone into the bike shop without you. With such a large party, they must not have noticed you were missing. You began to sweat.

"Well, I don't think that's true. I think that, if we're all patient with each other, there could be peace one day." The furry monster laughed along with a couple of the other people who had gathered around. Most of the monsters in the small crowd that had formed just looked nervous, though. A voice from the back shouted,

"Is that the lie you've been telling King Asgore?" You searched for who had spoken, but you couldn't locate the source. A long-necked bird monster scoffed and crossed her arms before saying loudly to her friend,

"I don't know why the King listens to this human."

"He's going soft."

"Hey, why don't you guys back off?" a sympathetic voice cut off the cynical protests, "Let's all just agree to disagree, yeah?" You turned around to face the newcomer and were met with a stout, wooly creature with ram horns and many tiny, beady eyes. She walked up to you and thumped you on the back good-naturedly. You wheezed at the force of the well-meaning blow. 

To your relief, there were murmurs of assent among the crowd. It seemed like most people were just waiting for someone to be brave enough to stand up for you. Another furry creature who looked like they might've been related to the original instigator patted their relative on the shoulder and whispered something to him. He scoffed at you one more time before turning away and walking off. After that, everyone else began to slowly disperse, many of them grimacing at you apologetically as they passed.

"Thanks for that," you said gratefully to the stranger who rescued you. She blew a loud, pink bubble with the gum she was chewing before waving you off.

"Eh, I was just saying what everyone else was thinking. Most of us appreciate what you're doin', for the record. There's just a few bad apples." She scowled, then shook her head. "Where'd those friends of yours get off to? They should be lookin' out for you and that little human kid."

"I think they went into that bike store," you explained as you wrung out your wet shirt, "It's my fault for - Hey, wait, come back!" you protested as the sheep-woman promptly started off across the street. You couldn't limp along fast enough to catch up to her before she burst into the store and began to chew out your friends, who hadn't yet noticed you were gone.

You blushed, beet red with embarrassment, as the tiny monster scolded Asgore for leaving you behind. It took some guts to yell at the King of all monsters like that but, for his part, Asgore looked appropriately admonished. As soon as he heard what had happened, Sans was at your side in an instant. But between the sheep-lady's dramatic retelling of the event and Papyrus' profuse apologies for accidentally leaving you behind, Sans couldn't get a word in edgewise. It was only after you all exited the bike shop and you parted ways with the wooly stranger that he said anything to you.

"You okay?" he asked quietly, his arm brushing yours as you walked.

"Yeah," you muttered, still embarrassed. You thought you'd handled the situation pretty well, aside from walking off by yourself in the first place. It was annoying that everyone felt like they needed to look out for you. Sans, bless him, sensed this and didn't bring it up again.

***

The rest of the trip went by without further fanfare. Everyone seemed to collectively agree not to make a big deal out of your little confrontation, though you figured the King would want to talk to you about it in private eventually. Sure enough, later that night when everyone had gone their separate ways, there was a knock on your door.

"Hey, Asgore," you greeted him as you leaned against the doorway, shivering in the blast of cold, winter air that blew into your house. 

"I am sorry for calling on you so late, but I was hoping we could have a short conversation," Asgore apologized as he looked over your shoulder, probably expecting to see Sans. Having anticipated this visit, you'd told your partner to head off to bed without you. You hoped this really would be short; you didn't want to keep him waiting.

"Yeah, of course. Come in." You opened the door wide and stepped aside.

"Thank you." You shut the door after him. Asgore didn't take a seat, which was a good sign. He started off right away. "I am sorry you had an... adverse experience in New Home today. I expected that something of the sort might happen, though I should have warned you."

"It's okay," you said with a wave of your hand, "It all blew over in the end. No big deal."

"Yes, well..." He fiddled with the hem of his shirt, acting nervous in a way that you didn't often see him act around anyone other than Toriel. "Perhaps we should increase our efforts to integrate monsters and humans. I have been so caught up in Frisk's situation that I have been ignoring the issue that underlies all of our troubles."

"Yeah, that's what Reives wants," you muttered, your arms crossed as you leaned back against the wall. "He wants me out of the way and you distracted so he can keep exploiting monsters for their gold for as long as possible." Asgore hummed under his breath.

"Perhaps... Or perhaps not. Either way, it does not matter so much. There are still things we can do without cooperation from the other humans." He stroked the fur on his chin thoughtfully. "May I ask a favor of you?"

"Of course," you answered easily. The favors Asgore had done for you ever since Orion burst into his life had proven to be immeasurable. If he needed something of you, you'd do it. Asgore studied you for a moment before voicing his request.

"If you can find any excuse to walk among my people underground, please do so. Bring friends with you, by all means, but... I think it would behoove the monsters to see a friendly, human face around more often."

Slowly, you nodded. Your eyes were attracted to the only light that illuminated the room, which came from the cracked open bedroom door. You stared at it for a moment while you thought about how you were going to stroll through New Home more often while still appearing casual. 

"I think you're right. I'll do my best." Asgore smiled at you, then closed the distance between you and patted your shoulder with a furry hand.

"Good. Now get some rest... If I do not see you tomorrow, have a safe drive back to North Ebott." You sighed a little, but you smiled back at him.

"Thanks."

***

Packing up your duffle bag the next day was bittersweet. You'd kind of been thinking about leaving Monday morning instead, but Sans nixed that idea. You would've had to leave before dawn to get Frisk to school on time, and he said he'd worry too much if you drove down the mountain in the dark. So you conceded to leaving late Sunday afternoon. All while you packed, you had to remind yourself that you'd be back soon. Tuesday at the latest, since you were determined to make the next FBI meeting in person come hell or high water. All of that driving in one day was going to be exhausting, but it'd be worth it just to see the look on Reives' face.

It would've been worth it anyway just to see Sans, period.

It wasn't quite time to leave, so you were surprised when Toriel showed up at your doorstep. You'd texted her to bring Frisk over at three, and it was only a quarter to.

"Hey, you're pretty... early..." You hesitated upon seeing the look on the Queen's face. Her fur was ruffled and she was breathing heavily.

"Have you seen Frisk? Are they here?" She looked past your shoulder, her brows furrowed. "Frisk!" she called out, but there was no one there to answer her.

"No, I haven't seen them. Have you checked Papyrus' house? And Asgore's?"

"Yes, I have checked everywhere," she snapped at you. You felt Sans approaching behind you before he put a hand on your shoulder.

"We'll help you look for 'em. They can't have gone far."

It took less than five minutes to gather all of your friends together for a search party. Using his shortcuts, Sans was able to deposit everyone at various locations underground so that, together, you could cover the greatest area. You wound up searching the True Lab. You didn't think it was a coincidence that Sans charged you with one of the few isolated, monster-free areas after what happened yesterday. You hadn't formally talked about it yet, but you knew Sans was unhappy with the role Asgore had asked you to play. A problem for another day... You had bigger things to worry about.

You couldn't believe that Frisk had run away again. In a word, you were disappointed. They said they would talk to you if there was an issue... That they wouldn't up and leave like last time. Obviously, they didn't want to go back to North Ebott. You didn't want to go, either. But them trying to hide like this only prolonged the inevitable. 

You clicked your tongue as your tenth call to Frisk went to voicemail. You tapped your phone against the metal table, staring at the wilted, yellow flowers as you thought about where they could've gone. Suddenly, you felt the familiar tickle of magic in the back of your mind as a certain someone opened a shortcut behind you.

"No luck?" You turned around to face Sans, leaning back against the counter as you did so.

"No. I don't think they'd come here, anyway," you admitted. Sans rubbed the back of his neck.

"Where d'you think they'd go?" The fact that Sans was asking you, as though you were some sort of authority figure on Frisk's behavior, was baffling. Though, after weeks of living with the kid, maybe you should've had a better idea of where they'd run off to. 

"Um... Well, if Pap isn't having any luck in Snowdin and if they're not with Mettaton in Hotland, maybe we should check the Ruins?" Sans blinked, then nodded. As he held out his hand to you, you felt another shortcut opening up to your right. Sans led you through it, and you suddenly found yourself in a room with two rocks. The one who had given you a ride all those months ago was conspicuously missing.

"Pick a direction," Sans instructed. You let go of his hand and used your thumb to point at the archway behind you. 

"I'll go toward the start if you wanna head toward Snowdin."

"Sounds good. Call me when you need a lift back."

"Roger that."

Without further delay, you and Sans went in opposite directions. You navigated the falling floor maze with ease, still remembering the solution even after all this time. Everything was just as eerily silent as it had been in the last timeline; any monsters who used to be trapped in the Ruins probably left for greener pastures by now. 

Tired and sore from all of the walking, your limp became more pronounced the closer you got to the start of the Ruins. You leaned heavily on your cane and had to stop for a short rest when you made it to the dual staircase. You considered calling Sans right then and there. You'd nearly made it to a dead end; it seemed unlikely that Frisk was here. But you hadn't gotten a call saying that anyone else had found them yet, so you had to press on. 

As you walked past a patch of sunlight in an otherwise pitch black room, you heard a faint, whispering voice. You furrowed your brow and crept down the hallway cautiously. You lifted up your cane so the tapping sound wouldn't echo down the hall and alert the voice to your presence. Instead, you leaned on the cave wall for support. The tense atmosphere had you ready to come face to face with something nefarious. However, as soon as you rounded the corner, you nearly ran into the very person you'd been looking for.

"Frisk!" you exclaimed, nearly falling backwards in your fright. The kid frowned and signed,

_"Sorry, LG!"_

"What were you...?" you eyed the backpack on Frisk's shoulders, then peered over their head at the barren, sunlit room behind them. A couple patches of slushy snow covered the ground, but otherwise the first room in Undertale looked just like how you remembered it. Where had the whispering come from, then? You frowned as you refocused your attention back on the kid. "Frisk, we talked about this... You gotta stop running away."

There was a long pause as Frisk looked down and shuffled their feet. Eventually, they turned their back to you, set their backpack on the floor, and dug around until they procured a pencil and notebook. 

Sorry. I just didn't want to go back to the city, so I ran away. I won't do it again. You closed your eyes and rubbed your forehead before thinking of a suitable reply.

"You worried a lot of people. And we should've left a half hour ago..." you said as you checked your watch with a sigh. "C'mon, let's just get going. I'll leave it to you to tell everyone that I found you."

 _"Okay,"_ Frisk signed with a pout. With that, you both pulled out your phones. You, to call Sans to tell him where to pick you up, and Frisk, to apologize to all of the worried adults who'd been searching for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know what? Let's just scrap the entire plot and just write 33 more chapters of Sans and Reed being cute together. Wouldn't that be nice?
> 
> (Kidding, of course. I've foreshadowed too much at this point to not see it through XD)


	24. Devil's Advocate

You were back to living in the apartment, but it wasn't so bad anymore. Now that you knew you had a way to get up to camp whenever you needed to, it was less distressing to be away. Besides, you were up on the mountain more often than you were down in the city, it seemed. In addition to bringing Frisk up there every weekend, you took to going up for short visits on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Tuesdays because that was when the meetings with Reives and Wolfe were, and Thursdays just because you could. 

Speaking of the meetings, Reives was infuriatingly unsurprised to see you coming to them again. He continued on with business as usual as though you hadn't just returned triumphantly from a sort of exile. The two of you continued to butt heads over trivial things like the cost of bananas, but you tried to keep it to a minimum for Asgore's sake. You hadn't forgotten that, before all of that stuff with Frisk's adoption went down, you'd been on paid leave for taking your arguments with Reives too far. You didn't want a repeat of that awkward situation.

Despite being mostly for your own sanity, your Thursday trips weren't completely useless. You used that time to get healed by Papyrus, and you made a promise to yourself to go the Underground at least once on those days. Sans didn't love that you had agreed to being the guinea pig in the human-monster integration plan, but, rather than trying to stop you, he simply insisted on going with you whenever you went for one of your strolls around New Home. 

That was more than fine by you; you much preferred his company to being alone. Once Sans recognized that people weren't going to up and attack you in broad daylight in the middle of a crowded town square, he loosened up and, dare you say it, even started to enjoy taking those walks with you. He took you past different places he remembered growing up, telling animated stories about his childhood adventures as you went. It was during times like those, when he was actually happy and unguarded, that you could see how he and Papyrus were related. 

You weren't sure if it was just your imagination, but you thought Asgore's idea was working. The more people saw you walking around in New Home, the fewer stares you noticed getting. You thought that people were at least becoming acclimated to your presence, if nothing else. 

It was after one such day of strolling around New Home that you returned to your apartment, exhausted from the day's activities. Normally, you just picked Frisk up on your way back home, but they'd sent you an urgent text earlier in the day asking you to bring them the assignment they'd accidentally forgotten at home. Mrs. Brown was being intransigent; she would only give Frisk any credit for having done it if it was turned in later the same day. It took Frisk a little longer to do homework sometimes, especially math, so they couldn't just do it during recess or something.

All of this meant that you had to leave the mountain a little earlier than you would've liked. You tried not to feel bitter about it, though. It wasn't like you had to go that far out of your way; Frisk said they left the homework on the kitchen counter. However, when you shoved open your front door, you were peeved to find that the homework wasn't where Frisk said it would be. You clicked your tongue on the roof of your mouth. With a small sigh, you opened up the door to Frisk's room to look for it in there.

For a half-second, you didn't even notice anything was amiss. Frisk rearranged their room so often that the potted plant on the nightstand didn't seem out of place. It was only when it spoke to you that you realized something was very, very wrong.

"Howdy, little monarch!"

An undignified shriek escaped your lips. You jerked back, your shoulder slamming into the doorframe.

" _Flowey?!_ " you gasped. Your heart raced. The last time you came face-to-face with this asshole... Well. The scar on your hairline was technically Sans' doing, but you didn't have a problem blaming the whole, explosive incident on this instigator.

With this memory in mind, you brandished your cane like a weapon. Making up for lost ground, you took two brave steps forward.

"Get the _fuck_ out of my house."

The flower scoffed. He crossed his leaves like a human might cross their arms. Flowey rolled his eyes at you as if he were a petulant teen before retorting,

"Believe me, I would if I could! This place blows. But Frisk trapped me here in this _stupid_ pot!" His golden petals quaked with annoyance. Just his raised voice was enough to send a shiver down your spine... But he didn't seem aggressive. You lowered your cane a little bit.

"What? Frisk brought you here?"

"Duh!" Flowey scoffed again. "What, do you think I carried myself? Jeez, you're even more of an idiot than I remember." He smiled at you cruelly. But, now that you had a moment to calm down, you had to admit that the flower was much less intimidating when he was confined to a ceramic pot with different colored hearts painted clumsily on the side. You lowered your cane completely, reverting to using it as intended.

"Well, if you want to leave, then it's your lucky day." You sneered. You caught a glimpse of Frisk's math homework on their desk and quickly snatched it up. "Tomorrow, you're gonna go right back where you came from. If you or Frisk think I'm gonna let some soulless maniac loose on the surface, you've got another thing coming."

"That's rich, coming from you!" Flowey retorted. You weren't sure if the flower was caught up on the fact that you'd gotten your soul back since last you spoke but, frankly, you didn't care. You marched out of the room and slammed the door none too quietly, fuming with anger at both Flowey _and_ Frisk for putting you in this situation.

The drive to Frisk's school was filled with loud, angry music and under-your-breath rehearsing of the argument you were about to get into. As soon as you got to the pick up line, Frisk ran over to your car. Begrudgingly, you handed them their homework, to which they signed a quick _"thanks"_ before running back into the school to drop off their work. You parked the Jeep out of the way while other parents picked up their kids, drumming your fingers on the steering wheel as you waited for yours to reemerge. When they did, they hopped into the passenger's seat, as of yet unaware that they were in trouble.

 _"Thanks again,"_ they signed slowly to you. They knew that you were only just starting to get good enough at reading sign language to have simple conversations. _"Mrs. Brown was mad!"_

"Well, that makes two of us," you said darkly. Frisk buckled up, but you didn't pull out of the parking lot. "I found Flowey in your room."

Funny how the kid suddenly found something interesting to look at out the window the moment you said that. They sat on their hands and stared at the flag waving in front of the school. With their face turned away from you, you couldn't tell what they might've been thinking. With a long-suffering sigh, you pressed on.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" They huffed, then turned around and started emphatically rapid-fire signing at you. It was much too fast for you to comprehend. You held up a hand and said, "Slow down, Frisk."

They threw up their hands in exasperation. Instead of repeating themself, they simply pulled out some paper and a pencil to write you a note.

Please let him stay! Asriel's the only one who didn't get a good ending. It's not right to let him stay lonely in the Underground. He'll be good... He promised!

You looked up from the note to see Frisk peering up at you with big, puppy-dog eyes. You pinched the bridge of your nose as you thought of how to respond to that.

"A lot of monsters are still trapped down there, kid. Flowey's not the only one."

 _"I know,"_ they signed at you more slowly this time, _"But they're not..."_ You furrowed your brow as they made a sign you were unfamiliar with. They recognized the confusion in your expression and pointed to the word "lonely" on the page you were holding.

"Flowey told me he doesn't even want to be here." As soon as you said that, Frisk rolled their eyes dramatically.

_"He's just saying that. He doesn't mean it. He wanted to come with me."_

Idly, you picked at the corner of the paper Frisk had given you. You were inclined to believe Frisk; you didn't think they would've been able to force Flowey in that pot if he didn't want to go. Sensing weakness, Frisk took the paper back from you to add,

Asriel isn't bad anymore. He's just a kid, like me! You're fighting for ALL monsters to be free, right? Why not him?

Looking at Frisk's expression gave you some insight into why Toriel always had such a hard time saying no to the kid. They looked intensely sure of themself, with big, brown eyes that bore holes into your skull. The effect was somehow amplified by their lack of hair... Maybe because they didn't have those long bangs obscuring their face anymore. 

As a general rule, you tried not to think about the times when you'd played Undertale without realizing that it was more than just a game. But, in that moment, you were reminded of the first time you'd gotten a pacifist ending. Even from your detached perspective, it felt unfair to leave Asriel behind in that starting cavern. It must've felt doubly unfair to Frisk who, in addition to being a naive child, had actually been there to witness Asriel's downfall. 

"...You're certain Flowey can't get out of his pot, right?" What were you saying? You couldn't possibly go along with this. But, then again... He'd already been in your apartment for nearly two weeks, and nothing bad had happened yet. 

_"Right."_ Frisk continued giving you that imploring look. You drummed your fingers on the steering wheel again.

"Well, we're not leaving him alone in the apartment over the weekend. We're bringing him with us back up the mountain tomorrow." The kid frowned, but you held up a finger before continuing, " _But_ , if he wants to come back with us on Sunday... That's up to him."

Frisk gave you a huge smile. You shook your head and started backing out of your parking spot. 

"This doesn't come without conditions. _Several_ conditions," you muttered, glaring at Frisk as you drove. "We'll talk about it more when we get home."

***

As soon as you crossed the threshold of your apartment, you instructed Frisk to go get Flowey. With the three of you gathered in the living room (albeit, one against his will), you had what could only be described as a family meeting. You informed Flowey about the plan for this weekend, to which he scoffed.

"Good! I won't be coming back with you to this garbage city, so don't even worry about that!"

" _Still_ ," you pressed on, "If you do decide to come back, you can't leave this apartment. Not that it matters to me... It's your own life on the line if you get caught. But it would set Asgore back a great deal if a monster was seen past the border. Capiche?" 

Flowey visibly flinched when you mentioned his father. It was exactly the uncomfortable reaction you'd been hoping for. Maybe, if he didn't value his own life, the prospect of disappointing his parents might deter him from doing something stupid. Mostly, though, you were just throwing things at the wall to see what stuck.

"Yeah, I capiche," he grumbled under his breath. 

Frisk started to sign something lengthy to Flowey that you couldn't keep up with. Instead of trying, you watched the flower's bored expression. You didn't know what to think of him anymore. He was soulless. He tried to kill Frisk on multiple occasions. He tried to kill _you_ on multiple occasions. But... Despite how much you, Sans, and Frisk might've helped, he was the one who broke the barrier. He was the one who warned you against resetting after the first pacifist ending. He and Chara were the only ones who'd always known you'd been out there on the surface somewhere, and he tried to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life. And even more recently... He isolated himself in the Ruins for _months_ for the sake of everyone else's safety. You couldn't help but to respect that. 

He made it kinda hard to believe that he'd done all of those decent things when he screeched at Frisk,

"WE'RE NOT FRIENDS, YOU IDIOT!"

"Keep it down," you warned tiredly. Frisk was undeterred; they simply put their hands on their hips and pouted at the flower. 

No matter if it was the right thing to do, you had a feeling you were going to regret agreeing to this living arrangement. 

***

"Sans... Something happened today that you're not gonna like."

You pressed the phone tightly to your cheek. There was no question that you had to tell Sans about this; he would only see the truth in your memories when you shared souls tomorrow night, anyway. Besides, you might need his help if Flowey ever broke bad.

"What did you do?" Your brow furrowed at the resignation in Sans' voice. The fact that he automatically assumed you'd done something wrong... Well, you weren't gonna lie. It hurt a little. 

"Remember when Frisk went missing? They weren't running away... They were looking for Flowey to smuggle him out of the Underground."

"Shit," Sans swore, as he rarely ever did. "I'll come and get him-"

"No," you cut him off in protest, "You don't have to do that... He's been fine here for the past couple weeks, he'll be fine for one more day. But, uh... I kind of... Invited him to stay longer. If he wants to."

There was silence on the other end of the call. It made you cringe. 

"You did what now?" Bravely, you gathered yourself and explained in a firm tone of voice,

"He might come back with us next week to stay over. He can't leave the apartment... And he doesn't want to, anyway. If he wanted to wreak havoc on humanity, he could've gone up to the surface and done that anytime-"

"It ain't _humanity_ I'm worried about." It was Sans' turn to cut you off. In the background, you heard the bed creak as he stood up from it, probably to pace around the room. "You've got the homicidal flower and that demon bunking with each other in the same room. Tell me how that's a good idea?" You blinked. If you were being honest, you hadn't even thought about Chara. But, then again...

"Frisk has Chara under control," you said with confidence, "I'm not worried about that."

"Oh, sure... You never are. You're not the one who had to..." he trailed off, though he didn't need to finish his thought for you to know what he was talking about. "Look. I was fine with you lookin' after the kid, but _Flowey_? You're biting off more than you can chew."

"Well, luckily, it's not your decision," you said hotly, and immediately regretted it. You heard a _BANG!_ on the other end of the line. Sans had hit something.

"The hell it's not! What happened to you not making decisions without me anymore? Or were you just sayin' that?"

That gave you pause. You'd had this argument before as Orion... Several times, actually. You thought you'd gotten past it. Were you in the wrong again? You pressed on stubbornly, but a seed of doubt was planted in your mind.

"No, I wasn't, but... This decision doesn't affect you at all! What, do I need to consult you before I decide what to eat for lunch every day? What happened to you trusting me... Or were _you_ just saying _that_?"

"Now? I'm not sure," Sans growled, "Every decision you make affects me. If you don't think so, you're kidding yourself. And you can't deny that you've made some bad decisions in the past."

There was a long stretch of silence. Usually, you would've come up with a rebuttal in that time. Now, though... You felt stuck. Enough time passed that Sans continued more softly,

"Like I said before, it's not like you're a bad person. You're not. But I wish you'd just trust _me_ on this stuff sometimes, y'know?"

More silence. You felt like your lips were sewn together. You thought back to all of the times you'd made your own choice and gone against Sans' wishes. Telling the humans about Orion's teleporting powers, destroying the first satellite... Basically everything you'd done in Undertale. The only times going rogue had ever worked out for you was when it concerned Frisk. Stopping Sans from killing the kid when Chara reared their ugly head had been the right move. Similarly, you didn't regret moving to North Ebott to look after Frisk even though Sans had never been thrilled about it. But how long would it take before you messed this up, too?

"Are you still there?" Sans actually sounded concerned now. You shook yourself enough to pry your lips apart.

"Yeah... Yeah, no. You're right. I trust you... Flowey shouldn't be staying with Frisk and I." Another pause. Neither of you were sure where to go from there. You and Sans were never awkward around each other before, but you were now.

"I just don't want you to get hurt." Sans backtracked. He sounded defeated despite the fact that you were the one who'd conceded. "Bring the kid and the flower over tomorrow, and we'll _all_ talk about this in person." You frowned in confusion. Was he really considering changing his mind?

"Okay," you said quietly. You gave him a moment to say something but, when he didn't, you continued, "It's getting late." It wasn't really... You'd stayed up talking to Sans much later than this in the past. But you kind of just wanted the conversation to end.

"Yeah," he agreed quickly, "Sleep well. I love you."

"Love you, too."

You waited for almost a full minute to see if he would hang up first. He didn't. As always, you ended the call, yourself. Even after that, you stared at the phone for a little while longer before setting it on your nightstand and crawling into bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character development...?
> 
> EDIT: I forgot to mention... 2 days from now (May 28th 2018) is when chapter 7 of TUYS takes place! This is when Sans takes Reed to waterfall and they talk about the stars. It's the first time the Orion constellation is mentioned :)


	25. Soul Siblings

When you informed Frisk that your "yes" had turned into a "maybe," they were pretty upset with you. 

"Frisk says they don't understand why that stupid, rotten piece of-" From the corner of your eye, you caught Frisk flicking one of Flowey's petals with a frown. "Ugh, fine. Why _Sans_ gets a say in all of this, to begin with."

"Because." You paused to focus on your driving. You turned on the blinker as you quickly switched lanes. With so much running through your mind, the exit that would eventually take you to the mountain road snuck up on you fast. "Because Sans and I are a team. Just like you and I." You quickly glanced over at Frisk, but the kid still had a frown on their face. Their eyes glazed over as they stared out the windshield. You didn't think they were looking at the road... That vacant expression felt awfully familiar, though you hadn't noticed it on Frisk in a long time. Was Chara saying something in Frisk's mind, or were you just paranoid after the topic had come up in your conversation with Sans? Meanwhile, a mischievous smile had grown to split Flowey's face.

"Wow... The leash is pretty short, huh?"

You didn't deign that with a response. You weren't about to get goaded into an argument with a soulless flower. He was wrong, anyway. If there was a leash, then it was tied around both of your necks. If one of you struggled to get away, it would hurt you both. Best not to test its length, as it were.

The rest of the drive was filled with unsolicited commentary from Flowey. By the time you made it up to camp, you almost wished Sans would put the kibosh on this whole situation. You missed your quiet, scenic drives with the kid who couldn't talk.

Your visits up to the mountain were already so commonplace that you no longer got a welcoming party at the front gates. This was great news, since it meant fewer people who you had to hide a talking flower from. Frisk stuffed Flowey, pot and all, into their backpack before you arrived, then handed the bag off to you before they hopped out of the car and into their mother's arms.

"Hey, Toriel," you greeted her as you stepped out of the car and swung the backpack onto your shoulder. Admittedly, you weren't terribly gentle about it. "How's it going?"

"Just fine, dear. It is wonderful to see you again, as always." She stood up from hugging Frisk, then held out a hand to you with a smile. "Here, let me take that bag for you."

"Oh, uh... Actually..." You hesitated. You hadn't anticipated how difficult this part of the plan would be. "...Actually, Frisk wants to sleep over with Sans and I tonight, if that's okay with you." It was hard because you knew Toriel lived for Frisk's visits. You didn't want her to think Frisk was starting to like you more, or something ridiculous like that. But, if that thought did cross her mind, she didn't show it. 

"Of course! Let me help carry something, though. I would not want you to overburden yourself." 

You shrugged, then grabbed your duffle bag from the backseat and handed it over to her. If she felt how heavy the backpack was, she might get suspicious. Best to keep that one in your own hands. Sans took the backpack from you as soon as you walked in the door, anyway, so it wasn't like you had to carry it for long.

As soon as the pleasantries with Toriel were over and she left for her own house to start preparing dinner, Sans unzipped Frisk's bag and dumped it unceremoniously on the couch. 

"Alright. Explain yourselves."

"Would someone at least _pick me up_ first?!" Flowey complained. You didn't really blame him... Through all of the jostling, his pot had tipped over in the backpack. He looked uncomfortable, with his stem bent sharply to the side. Frisk took pity on him and carefully extracted him from the bag, spilling a little dirt on the floor as they did so. They set him down on the coffee table... Upright, this time.

Once their hands were free, Frisk started signing. You caught a few words, such as "Ruins," "Asriel," and "lonely." Sans looked outwardly calm; he leaned back against the wall and had his hands stuffed in his pockets. But you could tell he was tense by how straight his back was and how he never once blinked. As far as you were concerned, it was up to Frisk to convince Sans of Flowey's changed ways. Even though it was your apartment he may or may not be bunking in for a while, you didn't feel like you had much of a stake in this either way. Besides, you doubted you would've been able to convince Sans if you tried.

"Yeah, I get that, kid," Sans spoke up after a while, "But... You gotta know what I'm worried about, right?" Frisk thought for a moment, then huffed as they signed,

_"This isn't about Chara, is it?"_

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner," Sans said with a terse smile. 

"Oh come _on_ ," Flowey intoned while throwing his head back dramatically, "You're not _still_ worked up over that, are you? Even _I've_ gotten over being killed by my sibling by now!"

Frisk laughed, but it was too loud. Unlike them. But, by the time all eyes in the room turned to look at them, they seemed to be back to normal. Cautiously, Sans explained to Frisk,

"I'm worried about the two of 'em being together again and gettin' into trouble. We all know what went down the last time that happened." Sans talked as if Flowey wasn't in the room, staring directly at Frisk instead. For their part, Frisk hardly seemed any more sympathetic to Sans than the flower. They signed something that felt poignant, though you didn't understand what is was. Feeling just as left out of the conversation as Flowey, you took a step closer to him and asked,

"What did Frisk say?" The flower scowled at you.

"Jeez, when are you going to learn sign language? They asked what it would take for Sans to stop worrying about my sibling."

"When they're not shacked up in your body anymore." Sans didn't sound as pissed off at the question as you thought he would, though the answer he came back with might as well have been "never." Although... He had a thoughtful look on his face that prompted you to speak up for the first time in this whole ordeal.

"But doesn't it rely on detecting determination?" you pointed out skeptically. Both Frisk and Flowey looked at each other with identical, confused expressions as you jumped two steps ahead in the conversation, having anticipated Sans' train of thought. "Frisk and Chara are both humans... They both have that. You couldn't separate their souls using the DTEM based on determination alone."

"Nah... But maybe there's some other way. The tech's there. We know it's possible to split souls safely... Just gotta figure out a different parameter." You could pinpoint the exact moment when everyone in the room was on the same page by when Frisk clutched their own head and winced. Foregoing Sans, they turned to you and signed,

 _"Chara doesn't want to leave."_

You inhaled sharply. So Chara _was_ listening. It... wasn't a comforting thought. You sat down on the coffee table next to Flowey so you could get closer to Frisk's height.

"Why not?"

"Because that maniac's gonna kill them as soon as they've got their own body, duh!" Flowey answered for them, jerking a leaf in Sans' direction. You frowned and shook your head.

"That's not true... Right, Sans?" Sans made an X in front of his chest as though crossing his heart.

"Scout's honor." 

It seemed impossible but, somehow, you couldn't tell whether or not Sans was lying. If he was, then he did a damn good job at faking it. His tense smile dropped and his eyes widened with sincerity. Being unable to tell was maddening. Not because you particularly cared what happened to Chara... Maybe it was horrible to think such a thing about a child, but you didn't think you would be terribly upset if Sans did take care of them once their fate was separated from Frisk's. Flowey had shown evidence that he could be redeemable, but Chara? Perhaps you were biased from having shared memories with Sans, but you didn't think that kid had a merciful bone in their body.

No, you were more disturbed by how familiar this whole situation felt. You were reminded of being soulless, and hearing Sans promise not to hurt you once you got your soul back. You hadn't been able to tell if he was lying then, either. Of course, now you knew he had been telling the truth, but your soulless self hadn't been willing to take that chance. Therefore, you weren't at all surprised by Chara's answer. 

"Yeah, they don't buy that," Flowey translated a series of signs that had come too quickly for you to read. Sans shrugged and said,

"Well, that's what it'd take. I'm not lettin' Mr. Homicidal here reunite with that abomination. So if you won't get that demon possession problem taken care of, I guess you're out of luck, bud."

At that, Frisk made a sound that you'd never heard out of them before. It was like a close-mouthed scream as they held their head and stomped their foot in anger. In a fit, they snatched up their backpack, out of which spilled a handful of dirt. They swung it around their shoulder, regardless, and stomped out the door. It slammed behind them like a slap in the face.

"...What happened?" you asked, genuinely confused. Yeah, Sans' wording could've used some work, but you didn't understand why Frisk was so invested in this. It had to go deeper than just wanting the best for Flowey. Just as you thought that, the soulless flower himself spoke up.

"I mean, it _might_ have something to do with the fact that I was basically their only friend, but whatever." Flowey rolled his eyes condescendingly. You fixed him with a glare.

"That's ridiculous. Frisk has tons of friends."

"Not in the city. Those brats at school _hate_ them... According to them. They won't shut up about it." He used a leaf to scratch behind his petals, seemingly bored with the direction of the conversation. However, he stopped suddenly and smiled at you evilly before voicing the insult he just thought of, "What, they didn't tell you about the merciless bullying? Figures. Some parent you are, huh?"

"Shut up." You stood up from the table, disgusted. Flowey had to be making that up. Frisk would've told you if they were being picked on... Right? Sans finally pushed off from the wall and approached Flowey.

"Alright, looks like you're goin' back underground. Maybe I'll just leave ya in that pot for a while and-"

"Wait wait wait..." Flowey's eyes shifted around nervously. "Uh... Now that Frisk's not here... Do you _really_ think you could split up their souls?" The earnest question gave Sans pause. The two of you glanced at each other before Sans shrugged.

"Dunno. Maybe. Why d'you ask?"

"Because _my_ soul's in there too, dummy. Part of it, at least," he grumbled. He drew his leaves closer to his body, giving him a smaller appearance. "I, uh... Kinda want that back. Don't tell anyone I said that!" He glared at you, as though wanting a soul was an embarrassing admission. His leaves drooped for a moment before he gathered them up again to continue. "Look. Believe it or not, I'm not exactly the biggest fan of my sibling right now, either. They did kinda murder me, in case you forgot."

"I thought you were 'over that' by now," you pointed out, to which Flowey spat,

"Okay, well I lied! I do that sometimes! The _point_ is that I... don't really care what you do with Chara's slice, but I want _my_ portion of that kid's over-inflated soul back, _if_ you think you can get it."

You and Sans looked at each other again. You both knew what Flowey proposed was morally dubious, at best. Going behind Frisk's back to work on a way to split the souls inside of them was... Not great. But, theoretically, it would be a lot easier to do if you didn't have to worry about finding a vessel for Chara's soul. 

"Couldn't hurt to look into it," Sans said with a shrug. You knew he would say that. He stressed about Chara almost daily. The fact that they were still around in a sort of hibernation made him constantly on edge. He would do almost anything to get rid of them and dispel that worry for good. If anyone was going to take a moral stand on this, it had to be you.

"...Yeah. Couldn't hurt," you responded with some reluctance. The prospect of getting rid of Chara was too tempting to dismiss the idea outright.

For the first time in a long time, you questioned whether your heart was in the right place. Back when you found out you were soulless, you used to dissect every emotion you felt and every decision you made, wondering if the souled version of you would feel the same. To this day, you still didn't know the answer to many of those questions. Now, though, you questioned whether you would've given your blessing to research this without Frisk's consent if you didn't carry a portion of Sans' soul inside of you. Were his feelings altering your own opinions? There was no real way to know; it wasn't like you could cut the Sans portion out of you and find out. The prospect hadn't bothered you before now, but when it came to the life of this kid who you'd come to care a great deal about...

"We'll have to tell Alphys," Sans announced, snapping you out of your thoughts. "We'll need her help with this, for sure." Flowey made a face, but reluctantly acquiesced.

"I guess. What a fun conversation that'll be." He smiled menacingly and said in a comically-deep tone that was obviously meant to mock Sans, "Hey, Alphys. Y'know that flower that disappeared from your lab? Yeah, that was the dead Prince Asriel whose soul was partially absorbed by one of your best friends and now he wants it back. Should go over well." He smirked, then rolled his eyes.

"Gotta start somewhere," Sans asserted, sounding uncharacteristically optimistic. He felt good about this. You... Not so much. But you kept your mouth shut. You rubbed your temple, suddenly exhausted by all of this. 

"I should go find Frisk... Again," you announced with a sigh. "Are you two gonna get started on that?"

"Yeah, I'll talk to Alphys. You don't have to worry about it," Sans tried to reassure you, but it fell flat. But when you turned away to start walking toward the door, you felt a bony hand touch your wrist. "Hey... Really. Don't worry about it." You looked back at him to see him giving you a lazy grin. The sincerity in his eyes promised that the two of you would talk about this more later. Or, rather, you'd probably just think about it together while you shared souls. 

The prospect of that did get a smile out of you. Even if you weren't so sure about the outcome of this conversation, you were glad your brief spat with Sans hadn't turned into something bigger. The two of you had the potential to really go off on each other, as was evident from arguments you'd had in the past. No one wanted a repeat of those.

"I'm not worried," you lied, then squeezed Sans' hand to cover it up. Flowey made an exaggerated gagging sound from his spot on the table.

With that, the three of you went your separate ways, with Sans and Flowey seeking out Alphys while you looked for Frisk. You didn't envy the conversation Sans was about to have to endure, though you weren't sure what you were going to say to Frisk, either. It was a long shot, but you tried sending them a text asking where they were while on your way over to Toriel's house to start your search. Shockingly, you received a swift reply.

_Castle._

You grunted, turned on heel, and headed toward the Underground instead. As you walked through Asgore's throne room, you texted back asking where in the castle they were. No response to that one. The reason was clear once you entered the judgment hall; they didn't need to tell you where they were because it was obvious. You couldn't have missed them.

A violent shudder ran down your spine when you caught sight of Frisk. It was getting late, and the intense, orange light of sunset illuminated the hall in an all too familiar manner. You couldn't make out Frisk's features, only their dark silhouette as they stood facing you in the middle of the hall. It went against every bone in your body to do it, but you walked toward them.

"Frisk?" Your voice wavered. This was stupid... You had no reason to believe that Chara had taken over. Only if they started talking out loud would you know that you had a problem on your hands. It was just the location getting to you...

They bent down to reach into their backpack, which they'd dropped at their feet. You paused in your approach. For a heart-stopping moment, you were _convinced_ they were about to take out the true knife. But you knew precisely where you and Sans had hidden that weapon, and there was no way Frisk could've gotten their hands on it. Sure enough, they didn't draw out a knife, but a piece of paper. Something was already pre-written on it. They made no move to get closer to you, so you had to close the distance. You stood in the shadow of a pillar as you took the paper and read,

Are you scared of me, too?

You looked up with narrowed eyes. Were they _trying_ to freak you out? To test you in some way? If so, then you'd failed resoundingly. You decided to go with the honest answer.

"When you do freaky stuff like this? Yeah, a little." You handed them their note back before amending, "Well, more worried for you than scared, I think."

Frisk sighed a little. The action seemed way too mature for someone so young. They sat down cross-legged on the tile floor, then took out a pencil to begin writing a new note. This conversation was going to be too complicated for sign language, it seemed. You sat down, too, your cane clattering loudly even as you tried to set it down gently. Without the flexibility to cross your legs like Frisk, you sat sideways and let them spread out in front of you. You leaned back on your hands and stared out the stained glass windows at the artificial sunset while you waited for them to finish writing. When they did, they pushed the paper across the floor toward you, spinning it upright so you could read,

Why doesn't anyone trust me? You told me not to let Chara out anymore. So I'm not gonna. They don't have your soul anymore, so Chara can't take over unless I let them. Why doesn't anyone trust me?

You frowned at the repeated question. You couldn't help but to feel that this was all partially your fault. No one would even know that Chara was there if you hadn't done a genocide route. Of course, you were well past that at this point. Still, you couldn't help but to wonder how things would be different if you'd just made better choices earlier on.

"We do trust you, but it's just... hard when the potential consequences are so dire." Frisk turned away from you, clearly unsatisfied with your answer. After a long stretch of silence, you changed the subject to ask, "Hey, um... After you left, Flowey mentioned that you might be having trouble making friends at school. Is that true?" The kid's face screwed up into a disgusted, pinched expression. It didn't look good on them. They signed something but, when your face remained blank, they hurriedly scribbled on the paper,

I told him not to tell anyone!

"So it's true? Why didn't you tell me you were being bullied?" You shifted positions, drawing your knees up to hug them to your chest. You felt kinda silly for being hurt by this development; you'd lied to your parents all the time when you were younger, and you were a sort of parent to the kid. So you had to expect that they were going to hide things sometimes. You just... supposed you'd forgotten about your guardian-child relationship under the veneer of the "team" rhetoric you'd pushed. 

_"Because you can't do anything about it. I don't want you to talk to Mrs. Brown, so just forget about it."_ You thought you managed to follow their signs, but their content made you frown. 

"Why? If kids are picking on you, then we have to tell someone."

 _"NO!"_ They shook their head vigorously. _"You'll just make it worse!"_

You seriously doubted that was true, but you didn't know what else to do. Frisk crossed their arms and turned away from you again. You felt that now wasn't a good time to talk with them about this. 

"Well, I'm gonna go back home... You're welcome to still stay with Sans and I tonight if you want." As you said that, you realized that, if Frisk was going to stay in Orion's old room, you were going to have to hide the laptop somewhere else temporarily. So, when Frisk shook their head, you were kinda glad that you wouldn't have to worry about that. But mostly, you were saddened that they were too upset with you to want to sleep over anymore.

 _"I want to stay with Mom,"_ they stated with a firmness to their motions. You dragged your cane toward you and stood up.

"Okay. See you later, then." You stood there awkwardly, giving Frisk plenty of time to add something if they wanted. But they didn't have anything more to say. You turned around and limped out of the judgment hall, feeling, as you often did, that you messed up here somehow.

***

It took Sans a long time to get back from talking to Alphys. When he did, he returned alone.

"The flower's staying in the lab for the foreseeable future," he announced as soon as the front door closed behind him, "Alphys needs to run some tests on him to see if any of this is even possible."

"What did she think about all of it?" You leaned forward from where you had been sitting on the couch, staring at the ceiling. You put your elbows on your knees and your chin in your hands.

"Uh, well... Kinda overwhelmed, I think." He shrugged off his sweater, leaving him in one of your t-shirts. He sat on the couch next to you and sank in like he was trying to become one with it. "She agreed not to tell Asgore yet, though. So that's a small miracle."

"You didn't think she would?" Subconsciously, you turned your body to face Sans. He made a "so-so" gesture with his hand.

"Guess I didn't know. S'not much precedence for a situation like this, so wasn't sure what to expect. But she seemed pretty willing to try and help." You would've hoped so, considering she was the one who made Flowey in the first place. You hummed, satisfied with the way things seemed to have gone on Sans' end. Meanwhile...

"Frisk is upset with us," you stated matter-of-factly, "I think they're mostly just lonely... They thought Flowey could be their friend while they were living in the city. I dunno why I expected..." You trailed off with a shake of your head. The unfinished sentence hung in the air, feeling especially poignant in the silence of the otherwise dark, empty house.

"What?" Sans prompted, leaning in closer to you as he listened. You gathered your thoughts before explaining,

"I guess I just took what they said at face-value... About how they wanted to save Flowey and give him a happy ending. I think they really did want that, but they had a selfish reason for wanting Flowey around, too. I wasn't expecting that," you admitted. Sans raised his brows.

"Well, you said it yourself. Kids are selfish." He shrugged, and you laughed weakly. You leaned back into the couch and put your hands behind your head. 

"Yeah, I suppose so."

When it became clear that the conversation was over, Sans sidled up closer to you. He laid his head on your shoulder and slid his arms around your waist. Without a second thought, you dropped your own arms to drape one over his shoulders. You leaned your head into his and let out a contented sigh. Every time he touched you, it was almost like being given a sedative. Your heart rate slowed, your tense muscles relaxed... You felt instantly calmer. 

"I'm sorry we argued." Rather than going through your ears, his voice seemed to rumble through your whole body. You closed your eyes.

"I'm not. You were right, and I'm glad you said something," you asserted easily. You knew that you'd made some... poor choices in the past. Anyone could see that. "I need a kick in the ass sometimes, so thanks for that."

Your joke was meant to lighten the mood, but Sans only nervous-laughed. You felt his arms tense around you. You realized that all of this cuddling and apologizing was supposed to be buttering you up for something only a moment before the hammer dropped.

"Yeah, well... I got a lil' more angry than I should've. I might've... uh... punched a hole in the wall?" You froze. You'd heard him hit something over the phone, but you hadn't considered that he might've done damage. You laughed incredulously.

" _What?_ Lemme see." You pushed up from the couch, dislodging Sans as you moved swiftly toward the bedroom. You flicked on the light and, sure enough, the hole was the first thing you saw. It was right across from the bed. Spindly cracks spiraled out from the gaping hole, which was, indeed, fist-sized. Sans walked up behind you slowly as you examined it, a bead of sweat having formed on his brow.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry about that." 

"S'okay... I wasn't all that attached to this drywall, anyway," you joked again, though there was a dark undercurrent to the whole situation that you couldn't fully ignore. Normal people didn't punch holes in the walls when they argued with their significant other. How, exactly, would that have gone down if you'd been yelling at each other in person? 

You really just wanted this to be nothing... A fluke. So, it seemed, did Sans. 

"Well, I can't help that you drive me up the _wall_." The lame pun got a snort out of you. You shoved him weakly in the shoulder, to which he overreacted by stumbling backwards and nearly falling over. 

The two of you joked lightly throughout the rest of the night as you made pancakes for dinner and cuddled sleepily on stomachs full of syrup. The incident itself went largely forgotten, but the hole in the wall remained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta be honest with you... As I was writing the previous chapter, I changed something from the outline that I _thought_ was minor, buuuuut it turns out that little change caused a butterfly effect that changed a hefty number of details about the plot XD I was basically winging it throughout this entire chapter. I think it's gonna end up better this way (?) but I may have just skipped like, 3-4 chapters in the process lol. I'll update the chapter count once we get back on track with the outline and I know how much actually changed.
> 
> Maybe I'll explain what happened in more detail later when I'm not afraid of spoiling things, because it was kinda wild.


	26. 99 Problems

You didn't get to talk to Alphys about the Frisk problem yourself until the next day. You knew Alphys well enough to know that she wouldn't have slept last night; when she encountered a new problem to be fixed, she tended to obsess over it until she burnt out. So you and Sans brought over some leftovers from breakfast and, sure enough, found her in the lab with dark rings around her eyes. 

"M-modifying the DTEM sh-shouldn't be that hard," she explained to you as she ate, "It's j-just that I d-don't know where to start... W-what needs to be ch-changed..."

You looked up at the hulking machine wistfully. It was strange to be near it again. You'd spent so much time in this lab as Orion, but hardly ever had to come here after your soul separation. That might change now, depending on how much help Alphys would need from you. You wanted to lend a hand if you could, though you suspected you might just get in the way if you tried to help. Without the need to resurrect a human body, there wasn't really anywhere for you to apply your limited medical knowledge.

"Um... C-can I ask a question? It's about... Ch-Chara..." You turned back to look at Alphys. Her eyes darted nervously around the room. The two of you were alone; Sans had taken Flowey into the other room when he started being rude to Alphys, and neither of them had returned yet. 

"Yeah, of course." Alphys set her now-empty plate down on the work table behind her and finished chewing before asking,

"W-what exactly did Chara d-do? Sans d-didn't want to t-talk a-about it..." Her stutter was particularly bad, betraying her nerves. You pressed your lips into a thin line as you considered how best to explain. Taking your silence as an unwillingness to answer, Alphys continued, "I j-just don't think I feel c-comfortable with... um... d-destroying someone's s-soul if I don't know what they d-did..." 

"Right, obviously. I get that," you quickly reassured her. "Do you remember... Way back when we first met... When I told you that there were different timelines?" It was hard to keep straight what you'd told this Alphys versus what you'd told the Alphys from the timeline when you fell into the Underground. You knew you hadn't explained it as well in this iteration, but she still nodded and said,

"Y-yes. And th-that's why n-no one remembers Sans... B-because he wasn't in this one... Is th-that right?"

"Yeah. But there's more to it than just that. There were a lot of different timelines before the barrier broke. Some of them were... Not so nice. The worst ones were where Chara, um... Took over Frisk's body and... Well... They killed a lot of people, to put it bluntly." You scratched the back of your neck. You were dangerously close to admitting your own part to play in the whole situation, but, selfishly, you figured that was more than Alphys needed to know. The fewer people who knew about Undertale, the better. Alphys covered her mouth with her hand.

"W-why would the King's ch-child do something l-like that?" she asked, appalled. You shrugged.

"I don't know why, to be honest. Something's not right with their soul. But this is the good timeline, and Sans and I really don't want them to mess it up. Which is why, if we figure out how to do this, we need to make _sure_ it stays a secret from Frisk."

With her hand still over her mouth, Alphys nodded slowly. At that moment, Sans sauntered back into the room, putting an end to the conversation. 

***

Frisk was still upset with you by the time Sunday rolled around. You weren't sure what the kid had told Toriel when they showed up back at her house on Friday night, but the Queen gave you a sympathetic look as Frisk hopped into the Jeep without acknowledging you and slammed the door behind them. The drive back down the mountain was quiet. That wasn't unusual, you supposed, but it felt like a more menacing sort of silence than ever before.

Silence was a pervasive theme between the two of you after that weekend. Frisk was moody every time you tried to engage them in casual conversation. Your fun, morning debriefs died a sad, painful death as Frisk sullenly dismissed your attempts to make them laugh. Eventually, you had to stop trying. You had to give them credit where credit was due; you were almost impressed at their ability to hold a grudge. Even in your adult life, you could hardly ever stay mad at someone for longer than a week, tops. But Frisk was not about to let you forget that you and Sans had exiled their flowery friend.

The month of March crawled by at a snail's pace. Snow melted, returned with a vengeance, and melted again. Yet still, Frisk remained cold to you. You didn't know what you'd done wrong. Perhaps your philosophy of treating them like a tiny adult had backfired on you. Maybe you should've sugar-coated things more... Not laid things out as bluntly as you did. Maybe you should have never entertained the idea of keeping Flowey around to begin with, only to have the hope shot down by Sans. Regardless, now that it was all said and done, you hadn't the slightest idea how to fix it.

You didn't know if it was the right move, but you respected Frisk's wishes and didn't tell their teacher about the bullying situation. They found other reasons to be pissy with you, though. Arguments about food made a resurgence. For a while, Frisk seemed to have accepted that you were going to make them eat healthier than Toriel did. Now, though, they reverted back to whining about it. You _hated_ when they whined. If anything, it was worse now that you understood some sign language. Although, you had a feeling they sometimes purposely used words you didn't know just so they could roll their eyes at you and put an abrupt end to the conversation. Stubbornly, you doubled down on your efforts to learn the language, going so far as to study online tutorials on the public library computers while Frisk was at school. It only helped marginally. 

This all came to a head one day after school. Frisk hopped into the car and wordlessly passed you a piece of paper. You assumed at first that it must've been a note they wrote for you, but the words "Behavior Penalty Report" typed at the top quickly dispelled that assumption. The school worked on a three-strike system, which you vaguely remembered being explained to you on the first day you registered Frisk for class. The "Strike 1" box was checked, followed by a description in the teacher's handwriting about what Frisk had done.

Frisk got into a fight with another student today. The other student was visibly shaken and had to go home early. Neither student was willing to describe what happened, but they did not appear to have physically hurt each other. Frisk was put in detention and has lost recess privileges for a week. No further action will be taken, but I would strongly recommend talking to them about this incident.

"...Frisk, what did you do?" You looked up from the note, dreading the answer. The usual defiant attitude they'd adopted seemed to drop as they stared at their feet in shame. They raised their hands to say,

_"I took out Caleb's soul."_

It took you a moment to process that. You didn't even know that Frisk knew how to do that. A sudden spark of anger caused you to crumple the note up in your fist.

"That's... You can't just _do_ that to people, Frisk! You know how invasive that feels!" Without realizing you were doing it, you rubbed your sternum with the palm of your free hand empathetically. "That's like, basically magic. Kid, you _can't_ do that up here. Humans don't know about souls, you know that! Did anyone see you?"

They shook their head no, but had nothing else to add. Someone honked their horn at you; you were holding up the pick up line. With a frustrated huff, you threw the crumpled piece of paper over your shoulder into the backseat and hurried out of the parking lot, your tires squealing. 

"You could've gotten in _huge_ trouble... You better be thanking your lucky stars this Caleb kid didn't say anything. Probably doesn't even know what happened..." Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Frisk moving their hands, but you couldn't tell what they said. "I'm driving, Frisk. I can't look at you right now."

"I _said_ he deserved it." 

Frisk shocked you by speaking out loud. You were pretty sure it wasn't Chara; the voice was raspy and quiet, not the lilting, domineering tones of the demon child. But you hadn't heard the kid speak of their own accord in many months. Were they just trying to scare you again? Your fingers clenched the steering wheel, but you didn't otherwise acknowledge your own surprise.

"We'll discuss this more when we get home." You stared straight ahead at the road, pretending not to notice Frisk rolling their eyes at you. 

They didn't speak again for the rest of the ride. You kept the radio off and sat in suffocating silence all the way back to the apartment. The sound of water droplets plinking against the windshield as a drizzle of rain began to fall was the only noise to detract from the tense atmosphere. When you got back, you made sure to be the first one inside so that Frisk couldn't make a beeline for their room without having to pass you. As soon as the door closed you turned on them and said sternly,

"I don't care what that boy did, you can't pull out people's souls. It's a violation of privacy _and_ it's dangerous to be doing that sort of thing in front of other humans. Hell, I'd be less mad if you just decked the kid in the face. _Never_ do this again, do you understand me?" Frisk nodded sharply, their eyes fixed ahead as they marched past you. You watched them go, but were surprised again when they turned around and signed very slowly so you could understand,

_"I hate you."_

They slammed their bedroom door. 

You flinched. 

You dragged a hand over your face. Carefully, you balanced your cane against the fridge. Despite your efforts, it still slipped and fell before you finished sitting down on one of the two stools at the counter. The sharp clattering sound made you jump again. You didn't bother getting up to retrieve it from the floor.

You rested your chin on your left hand while your right drummed out a discordant rhythm on the countertop. You stared blankly at the time displayed on the stove while you replayed the argument with Frisk over in your head. What could you have done differently? You tried to see things from Frisk's point of view. They'd had their soul pulled from their body countless times... Maybe they didn't think it was a big deal. In a way, it wasn't. Sans had done the exact same thing to one of the guards, after all. Why did this feel more heinous to you? 

Regardless of the morality of pulling out someone's soul without their permission, it had been dangerous for Frisk to do it to someone who didn't... _couldn't_ know about magic. That was a secret that, if it got out, would surely jeopardize monster and human relations. Frisk knew that. So, on those grounds alone, you felt justified in scolding them as you had. 

Why did you feel like the bad guy, then? The "I hate you" had stung more than you liked to admit...

You were alarmed when you felt a tear roll down your cheek. You wiped it away quickly. You weren't normally a frustrated crier, but you were just so worn down from all of this. It was impossible for you to sustain fiery anger for as long as this conflict with Frisk had been going on, so that usual pissed-off energy suddenly gave way to sadness. You slumped down in your seat, crossing your arms on the counter and resting your head on them. 

For the first time since the road was completed, you felt like you couldn't go on doing this for much longer. Asgore and Toriel had all but given up on trying to win custody of Frisk. Your legal guardianship was meant to be temporary, but there was no end in sight. You usually tried not to think about it, but now, in the silence of your tiny apartment, the years stretched out in front of you like a barren, desert road. Raising a kid who resented you wasn't at all what you ever imagined doing with your life. But you couldn't just bow out. You felt trapped.

With an ugly sniffle, you took your phone out of your pocket and set it on the counter. You wanted someone to tell you what to do, but who? There was no one. Sans was always there, but he never did much more than listen. That wasn't what you needed right now... You needed actionable advice. Toriel would probably be the most helpful, but you felt too ashamed to call her up. You didn't know where you stood with her, especially after that thinly veiled warning she'd given Sans about you being manipulative. You usually tried not to let that color your view of her, since you weren't supposed to know about that, anyway. But you had to admit that the incident did sour your trust in her.

Finally accepting the fact that your tears weren't going to end anytime soon, you got up and hobbled over to the tissue box in the living room. As you wiped your red cheeks, the playstation next to the TV caught your eye. You'd given it to Frisk, but it still felt like a symbol of your childhood. You stared at it for a minute, unsure. Then, with your mind suddenly made up, you marched over to the door, grabbed your cane, and threw on some sandals before exiting the apartment, leaving the monster-made phone behind on the counter. 

The nearest payphone was three blocks away. You passed it every time you brought Frisk to and from school. Unfortunately, the distance felt much longer on foot than it did in a car, and you were limping heavily by the time you got there. To make matters worse, you were soaked to the bone form the steadily worsening rain. 

With numb fingers, you slid the two quarters you'd found in your pocket into the machine and dialed the only phone number you had ever bothered to memorize. It rang once... twice... You worried that she wouldn't answer a call from an unknown number. Thankfully, after the third ring, you heard a voice that you'd been missing ever since the day you regained your lost soul.

"Hello?"

The tears that had run dry during the walk to the payphone started back up again with a vengeance. You leaned your forehead against the metal machine, shielding your eyes from the rain. With a trembling voice, you asked,

"Mom?"

"Oh my God!" There was a crash on the other end of the line... You imagined her dropping whatever she had been holding. She tended to do that when she was surprised. "Shit! Baby, is that you? Where are you?" You didn't know what you'd been expecting, but it wasn't this raw panic. Before you could even answer, your mom continued babbling, "I can come and get you... Whatever you need. Just tell me where you are!" You took a deep breath. Someone here had to pull themself together, and it wasn't gonna be Mom.

"Mom... Calm down. I'm fine... I don't need you to come and get me," you reassured her while wiping the corners of your eyes. "I just... miss you."

That was the crux of it, really. Yeah, you wanted some advice on what to do with Frisk. But, now that you actually had your mom on the phone (something that you hadn't even considered doing, since you spent much of your time actively avoiding thinking about your parents) you mostly just wanted to be comforted. You wanted her to tell you that-

"I miss you too, Baby."

You let a sob escape you. Why hadn't you done this sooner? You were so stupid. Then again...

"B-but, the crate...?" If your parents weren't mad at you, then why did they send you all of your personal belongings without so much as a note to soften the blow? 

"I know, I know... We were stupid. We didn't understand... We still don't understand... But... Your father and I wanted to send you a letter after the fact, but they wouldn't let us. And we didn't know your new phone number. And the government people warned us all to stop protesting at the border, so we did..."

You ground your forehead into the metal plate as you listened to your mom ramble. You _both_ could've done more. But you were here now and, miraculously, your parents didn't seem to be mad at you. 

"What have you been doing? Are you okay? Do you need help?" The barrage of questions left your head spinning. You inhaled the earthy, rain smell in the air before responding as calmly as you could manage,

"I'm okay, really. I'm living in Ebott City now..."

"I heard that on the news. You're not with the monsters anymore?"

"Well, I still am. It's a long story..."

With that, you dove headfirst into a long-winded explanation. You told your mom almost everything... A lot more than you had planned on telling her during your march to the payphone. You omitted only the parts that involved magic or your death. But you gave her a run-down of being an ambassador, of the distraust you faced from both humans and monsters, and of how you came to be looking after Frisk. After some coercing, you even admitted to the nature of your relationship with Sans. For some reason, that was what made you cry the hardest.

"I'm s-s-sorry," you blubbered, to which your mom tsked at you.

"Don't apologize. It's... your life," she said, though it seemed to pain her. More easily, she added, "Just be careful, baby. You know not everyone's gonna like that."

"I know, I know..." You were too emotional to talk about this right now. You hadn't even gotten to asking for the advice you so desperately needed, but you were worn out. Between walking here and being on the phone, you'd been on your feet for over an hour. You were exhausted, and you still had to walk back. "I gotta go, Ma. I can't stand here much longer..."

"Why are you standing? Where are you calling me from?"

"Uhh... A payphone?"

"What?!? I thought you got a cell phone? Why haven't you gotten a cell phone yet?!" That gave you pause. Why _didn't_ you have a phone? You had a monster phone, of course, but you couldn't call any humans on it. You couldn't go on the internet. During all your time in the city, you'd never once checked your email or social media. You'd been afraid of what you might find but, in your fear, you'd effectively isolated yourself. 

"I'll get one," you promised.

"Tomorrow. Right now, I want you to go back home and rest. Christ, isn't it raining there?"

"It just stopped," you mumbled, squinting at the sky. You hadn't even noticed when it stopped, but it must've been recently. You were still soaked. And cold. You really needed to get home. "I'll go home and call you tomorrow."

"Okay, you do that. I love you." Despite how frigid it was outside, your chest felt warm.

"Love you, too. Bye."

Reluctantly, you hung up the phone. You flexed your hands, both of which were sore. One from clutching the receiver, and one from holding your cane. With a wince, you slowly started walking back toward the apartment, your muscles protesting every movement.

You hadn't exactly gotten the answers you'd been looking for, but your heart felt lighter nonetheless. You were on speaking terms with your mom again. It wasn't what you'd thought would come out of today, but it was better than anything you could've ever hoped for. You had to tell Sans... If you'd brought your monster phone with you, you would've called him while you walked back. In fact, after looking at your watch, you realized you were late for your usual evening call. He was probably worried.

With that in mind, you picked up the pace and rushed home, choosing to focus on the rhythmic tapping of your cane rather than the ache of your muscles or the goosebumps on your skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty excited about the next chapter! We're creeping closer and closer to... something. Can you feel it?


	27. There Will Be Blood

You called your mom back the next day, but not before getting Frisk ready for school, dropping them off, going to Cellcom, and spending nearly two hours just trying to get a damn phone. It seemed incomprehensible to them that you didn't have your old phone to trade in, and they were even more baffled that you wanted to pay for the full price of the phone upfront. Finally, though, you managed to get your hands on a real, honest-to-god smartphone.

Again, you wondered why you hadn't done this sooner. The phone immediately proved its usefulness by directing you back to your apartment when you got lost in an unfamiliar neighborhood. But even if all it could've done was make calls, it would've been more than worth the price just to be able to talk to your mom and dad in the comfort of your own home.

"I want to meet this... Sans character," your dad announced once Mom put you on speakerphone. Clearly, she'd filled him in on everything you'd told her yesterday. "How long have you two been a thing?"

"Oh yes, I would like that," your mother added before you could answer the question, "I suppose we'll have to come up there sometime, right?"

"Uhhh..." you stalled, a fiery blush overtaking your face. It was _so_ weird to hear your parents talking about Sans like that. It was very similar to how they'd talked about your ex when the two of you first started dating... With your dad being the protective one while your mom played the overly supportive role. You suspected the similarity was purposeful; they were trying not to treat Sans any different. But he _was_ different, in ways they didn't even know. "I dunno. It happened kinda... naturally? It's been at least a few months. And I'm not sure if you'd be allowed into camp. I guess I'll have to ask someone."

Not just that, but you'd have to ask Sans if he'd even be okay with meeting your parents. It had gone so poorly the first time that you weren't sure if he'd be up to trying again. When you told him that you'd told your parents the truth about your relationship, he had seemed nervous about even that small step. You feared what might happen if, say, your parents met Sans and ended up not liking him. That was a whole can of emotional worms that you didn't want to open at the moment, so you decided not to even ask Sans, hoping that your parents would forget about the whole idea.

As far as the Frisk situation went, your mother had an opinion on that, too. Just like you knew she would.

"Poor baby... I'm sure that kid's been through a rough time. Did you know they still can't find their real parents?"

"I know, Ma," you said patiently. Of course you knew; if Frisk's biological parents had ever come forward, this whole legal guardianship situation would've come crashing down. 

"There had to be something going on there... Some kind of abuse or neglect. Decent parents wouldn't just sit by in silence while their child went missing." You scuffed your foot on the carpet uncomfortably. You felt bad every time you were reminded of the lengths your parents had gone to in order to find you, only for you to turn your back on them immediately after reuniting. Mom didn't dwell on that, though. "Have you ever asked them about it?"

"No!" you exclaimed. Although you agreed that Frisk's parents had probably been shitty, you couldn't just ask the kid about something like that.

"Right, well... You have to say _something_ to them. They're, what, nine years old? You can't expect them to come to you first. You have to be the mature one, here."

You thought you'd been pretty mature through this whole situation, already, but you didn't say that. You held your tongue as you listened to your parents' advice, determined to do whatever it took to regain Frisk's trust.

Together, you decided it was probably best to wait until the consequences of Frisk's "fight" had died down. You waited a week for their recess privileges to be restored, then put it off another few days for good measure. In that time, you kept up communication with your parents. Mostly, you talked about safe stuff like how your days were going, how the weather was starting to take a turn for the better, and how bad the construction on the roads in Pueblo was. Every now and then, however, something darker would slip in. Like how your grandpa's dementia had taken a turn for the worse and no one was sure how much longer he'd last. Or how one of your college buddies had doubled down on the anti-monster movement and got himself arrested at a rally. 

...Y'know. Just the little things you'd missed while you were gone.

When you couldn't justify waiting any longer, you approached Frisk during dinner. Mealtimes were the only occasions when the two of you were together for any length of time anymore, and they were usually filled with Frisk's complaining about the dining options. This time, however, you waited for a quiet moment before broaching the forbidden subject.

"So, Frisk... How's school?" You were disappointed, but unsurprised, when you got nothing but a shrug in return. Undeterred, you pressed on. 

"Have you made any new friends recently?" They made a face at their steamed carrots as they pushed the vegetables around on their plate with a fork. When it became clear from your patient silence that you weren't taking that as an answer, Frisk set their fork down with a clatter and shook their head. You leaned forward, put your elbows on the counter, and rested your chin on your hands.

"What d'you wanna do about it?" Frisk shot you a confused look. You couldn't blame them; you hadn't brought this topic up for weeks, and now you suddenly wanted to talk about it. But better late than never. 

_"I don't know,"_ they replied with their hands for the first time, but it was with slow, sullen movements. 

"Well, we have to do something. You can't just be miserable all the time," you stated determinedly. Abruptly, you picked up your empty plate and dumped it in the sink, mostly just to give your hands something to do. "You still don't want to tell your teacher about the bullying, right?"

You looked over your shoulder to see Frisk nodding emphatically. You rinsed off the plate and put it in the dishwasher, then dried your hands on the kitchen towel as you leaned backward against the counter. While you kept yourself busy, you tried to decide how to say what you wanted to say without sounding like you were making this all about you. Eventually, you settled on paraphrasing something your mom had reminded you of over the phone.

"Well, um... Y'know, I got picked on a lot when I was a kid, too. What worked for me was just having a friend who I could count on. People still targeted me, but it was a lot more bearable when I knew I had someone else who was there for me." You paused as you carefully folded the towel you were holding. "You have a lot of friends, Frisk. Hell, I'd say you're the most popular person in the Underground!" Frisk scoffed, but they were grinning as they did so.

_"No way! Not more popular than Mettaton."_

"Yes way! You're the one who got Mettaton all those views during your fight, and don't you forget it!" Frisk giggled quietly, covering their mouth with their hands. Before you could get too off track, you continued, "But, uh... Even though you have a ton of monster friends, it might be nice to make some human friends, too. I mean like, kids in your class who you can hang out with at lunch and recess. Do you know anyone like that who might like to have a new friend?"

Frisk stared at their carrots for so long that you thought they might've been ignoring you. Eventually, though, they raised their head and hands to say,

 _"No. I think everyone's scared of me because I'm older and bigger."_ They made two hand motions; one for "tall" and one for "wide." You couldn't help but to chuckle at that.

In the months it had been since you registered Frisk for class, you had almost forgotten that they were behind a year. That meant that they were a year older than all of the other kids in their class. To you, a year didn't mean much, but to a child, it might as well have been a decade's difference. 

"Well, your monster friends are way older and bigger than you... Were you scared of them at first?"

 _"A little,"_ Frisk admitted sheepishly. 

"But not anymore, right?" The kid shook their head vigorously. You gave them a warm smile. "So all you have to do is show them you're not so scary. Think about it... Are there any kids who sit alone at lunch? Maybe you could try befriending them." Frisk considered your words, then nodded slowly. 

_"I can try."_

"Great!" you said, relieved that you had managed to have a full conversation with the kid without either of you getting frustrated. It was practically a miracle, these days. You were so glad that you didn't even make Frisk finish their carrots; you took the plate from them and dumped the leftovers in the trash. Their shoulders slumped in relief. 

***

When you dropped Frisk off at school the next day, you told them to wait before they got out of the car. They let their hand fall off of the handle and turned to you with a quizzical expression.

"I just want you to know that this bullying stuff isn't gonna change overnight... Even if you make some friends, it won't get better right away. You get that, right?" Frisk nodded solemnly. They twiddled their thumbs, then seemed to decide you were trustworthy and said,

 _"It doesn't bother me when they say mean stuff about me... I just don't like when they say mean stuff about my monster friends. That's what Caleb did."_

You nodded slowly. That made a bit more sense, then, why Frisk suddenly lashed out last week when they had never done such a thing before. 

"I understand." Frisk looked down at their feet, ashamed. You pursed your lips, then said, "Hey... Listen to me. If anyone starts to talk shit again, I want you to look them in the eyes..." Gently, you reached out to lift Frisk's chin up. Usually, they would've flashed you a smile when you used a bad word, but now... Their dark eyes only stared at you miserably. "...And give them your most determined look. Can you do that?" 

The kid's expression hardened, and they nodded resolutely. They took your wrist and jerked your hand away, all while staring you down. You grinned.

"Good. No one'll dare mess with you _or_ your friends if you look at them like that. Now have a good day at school." You held up your hand. Frisk gave you a high five before throwing open the car door and jumping out.

The ghost of a satisfied smile remained on your face long after you pulled out of the school's parking lot. You weren't sure if things were completely patched up between you and Frisk... Only time would tell. But you felt like you'd made progress, at least. All you'd needed was a little parental advice. 

Consciously, you decided to ruin your good mood by tuning into one of the morning talk shows on the radio. Your dad had told you about this one he listened to that always had a monster news segment every Tuesday. The hosts leaned pretty heavily anti-monster, with one poor, pro-monster sap thrown in there for them to debate with. Listening to it on the ride up to camp always put you in a hot-headed mood. You hadn't decided yet if such a mood was productive or not for the meetings with Reives and Wolfe. 

As you scowled at the radio, you eventually realized that something was off. You didn't notice it until you were on the off ramp, but there was a big, white truck that had been behind you for a while. You thought it might've gotten on the highway with you, though you couldn't say for sure. It only became suspicious when the truck took the same exit as you. That exit only led to a small residential area and the road up the mountain. None of the guards or FBI agents you knew owned an obnoxious dually with light mounts, and no one else had any business driving up to the camp. But maybe the truck driver just lived in one of the nearby houses...

You would've chalked it up to paranoia if the truck didn't make the turn onto the freshly paved, mountain road with you. You immediately cursed yourself. Turning onto that road was a terrible idea if you suspected someone was following you... Now, you had nowhere to go but forward. Quickly, you fumbled to turn the radio off. You shot several anxious glances at the rearview mirror. The truck wasn't doing anything terribly suspicious yet, aside from taking up the entire width of the already narrow road. It kept a good distance behind you. Maybe this was all just a really weirdly timed coincidence.

Still, you pressed down on the gas, wanting to put even more distance between yourself and the white truck. Your breath caught in your throat when your pursuer sped up to match your speed. Even worse, they pushed a little farther, getting up closer to you. You tightened your grip on the steering wheel and sped up even more. They did the same.

Your mind raced. What could this douchebag possibly want? Was it a case of road rage? Had you cut them off somewhere without realizing it? Or was this something more premeditated? Did this person know who they were chasing? 

The stalking situation quickly turned into a race between your Jeep and the white truck. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest as the chase reached dangerous speeds. Your eyes darted between the rearview mirror and the cliff face on your right. The truck didn't seem to be having any problems, but you struggled to stay on the road. 

"Oh _fuck_ ," you exclaimed while slamming on the brakes as you approached a tight corner. You thought for sure you were going to go careening into the trees, but your trusty Jeep pulled through for you. You felt your back wheels slide out from under you as you drifted around the turn, your tires screeching with the effort. The white truck was forced to slow down, as it was too heavy to mimic your movement.

This afforded you a small window of opportunity. You lunged for your human-made phone, which was sitting in the cupholder. You pressed the button on the side, but were dismayed when you had to wait for it to boot up. It had run out of batteries last night, and you must've forgotten to turn it on when it had finished charging this morning. Just when it finished turning on and you were about to press the "emergency call" button, something rammed into you from behind.

You lurched forward, the phone flying out of your hands. You turned around to look behind you, and saw nothing but the grill of the white truck. You had only enough time to think, _This guy's fucking crazy!_ before you were rear-ended again. This time, the truck only hit the corner of your Jeep, which sent you careening to the right. Desperately, you jerked the steering wheel to the side, but it wasn't enough to stop you from hurtling off the side of the road.

 _BANG!_ The force of the impact knocked all of the air out of your lungs. You were thrown forward, but your momentum was abruptly stopped by your seatbelt. Something slammed into your chest hard enough that you felt for sure you'd been impaled. But no; your vision was dominated by white until the airbag started to deflate. Your ears rang. You'd never been in a car crash before... You'd had no idea how loud they were. 

You could do nothing but sit there limply, in shock, as the dust settled. Dumbly, you leaned against the seatbelt, which had locked to hold you in place. Even once the airbag fell into your lap and no longer blocked your view out the cracked windshield, you could barely comprehend what you were seeing. Through the smoke rising from under the hood, you saw that the front of your car had crumpled against the trunk of a now-splintered tree. 

Before you really knew what was happening, another loud _BANG_ of a different sort nearly shattered your left eardrum. It _did_ shatter the driver's side window, which had miraculously remained intact through the crash. You didn't know what the noise was until you sluggishly turned your head toward it. 

You took in the scene in pieces. White truck... Parked on the other side of the road. Man... Walking toward you. Arms raised. In his hands was a...

Another shot pinged off the car door. He had bad aim. As if taken over by some outside force, you were spurred into action. Your left hand fumbled with the seatbelt while your right removed the keys from the ignition. You weren't sure why you bothered with the keys, but some instinct told you to take them. As the seatbelt released, you slumped forward. That movement saved you from a third bullet, which lodged itself in the roof of the totaled car. 

You scrambled over to the passenger's side, shoving the door open with your shoulder. Immediately, you fell face-first on the ground, where you did an unintentional somersault before landing directly on your ass. Despite being incredibly winded, you continued to slide down the steep cliff. You had only a modicum of control over your descent; really, you were just falling while barely managing to keep your feet under you. Before you could lose your footing, you reached out an arm and hooked it around the nearest tree. Your own momentum nearly ripped your shoulder out of its socket, but you kept your grip as you swung yourself around and halted your fall. 

You dropped down to lay on your belly, covering yourself as best you could with the dense foliage that surrounded you. You clamped a hand over your mouth in an effort to quiet your breathing, but you had no way of stilling your pounding heart. Through the gaps in the ferns, you could just see your smoking vehicle. The man appeared from behind the Jeep, his gun lowered as he scanned the cliff, looking for you. It was the first time you'd gotten a good look at him and, even through your adrenaline-filled haze, you could tell that he was nervous. The barrel of the pistol shook violently in his hands... No wonder he hadn't been able to hit you. His head whipped back and forth anxiously. You could even hear his ragged, hitched breath from where you hid. 

Suddenly, you were struck with a life-saving idea. You'd forgotten about the keys in your hand as you fled. Now, you unclenched your fingers from around their sharp edges and pressed the panic button on the fob. Your Jeep, bless its metal heart, responded by honking out a deafening alarm. The man flinched so hard that he squeezed the trigger of his gun. The shot hit the ground harmlessly, but it, combined with your car's continued honking, scared him terribly. 

"Fuck this shit," he said out loud to himself before turning tail and running away. Only seconds later, you heard tires screeching. You only saw the top of the white truck as it did a sharp u-turn, speeding back down the mountain and leaving behind the smoking wreck it had caused. 

You laid there, deathly still, for an indeterminate amount of time. Eventually, you lowered your hand from your mouth. At around that same time, you started to feel the pain in your chest. You rolled onto your back and laid spread-eagled, which offered you a slight relief. You stared up at the sunlight as it filtered through the canopy of trees, waiting for the adrenaline to wear off enough that you were capable of stringing together two coherent thoughts. 

You had to get help. You were stranded and possibly badly injured... You couldn't really tell at the moment. Slowly, you sat up, wincing as the movement put pressure on your ribs. Something was definitely wrong in that area; you couldn't take a deep breath without feeling an intense, stabbing pain. You started crawling back up the cliff, grabbing onto tree trunks and thick ferns to pull yourself forward. Before cresting the hill, you sat very still again and just listened. It had been a while since your attacker left... At least ten minutes, if you had to guess. He could've easily changed his mind and turned back around to finish you off. But, no; you heard no one. Just the sound of birds chirping innocently in the forest. 

By leaning on the open passenger door, you managed to pull yourself to your feet. You eyed the smoking engine nervously as you dug around in the car, looking for your phone. Your monster phone was in your pocket, and you'd use it if you had to, but you very much wanted to avoid that. Even if you didn't call Sans directly, there was a chance that he'd find out if you called any of your friends in the camp. If he heard about what happened, he'd take a shortcut to you immediately. There was no doubt in your mind. As much as a part of you desperately wanted him to come to your rescue, another part of you screamed that it was a terrible idea. If he came right now, he'd most likely do something stupid... Like try to go after the guy in the truck. You couldn't give him that opportunity.

As such, you were relieved when you found your human phone on the floor of the Jeep. You scrambled back down the cliff a little ways... Just far enough that you felt you'd be safe if the car caught fire. When you turned on your phone, you noticed that the screen was cracked in the corner. It was a small miracle that you had two bars; you hadn't gotten far enough up the mountain to lose reception completely. You took a deep breath.

"Everything's gonna be okay," you told yourself, then dialed 911.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had practice since the last time I had to do this, but I'm still not very confident in my ability to write action scenes. I hope it's decent!


	28. The Mountain at Our Gates

One ambulance and two police cars arrived within less than ten minutes of your call. You were impressed by the speed. The paramedics helped you get up off of the cliff and quickly sat you down in the back of the ambulance. Even though it wasn't cold, you began to shiver violently as soon as other people arrived to take control of the situation. The orange blanket that someone draped around your shoulders helped a bit. 

Your thoughts felt scattered. Disjointed. One of the police cars left to go back toward the highway almost immediately, while the other pair of officers stayed to take pictures of your car. The male officer found your cane in the backseat and brought it over to you.

"Thank you," you said gratefully. You hadn't even thought about that, but you would've been upset later if you lost it. 

"You're welcome," he replied with a kind, but forced smile. "Do you think you can tell us what happened now?" He asked the question as though he'd tried asking you at least once already, but you didn't remember that. You clutched the shock blanket tighter in your fists. 

"Yeah. Some guy followed me here and ran me off the road. He had a gun..." You almost couldn't believe what you were saying. Someone had tried to _kill_ you. It was difficult to wrap your head around it. You gestured weakly up the road. "I was headed up to the monster camp. I'm the ambassador..."

"I know who you are," the man dismissed you as he pulled out a small notepad and pen from his pocket. "Can you describe the vehicle he was driving?"

"Big, white truck with dual wheels. And fog lights," you spoke quickly and confidently. The image of that truck was burned in your memory; it wasn't difficult to recall. 

"Do you remember the license plate? Even if it's only part of it... Any little bit would help." 

"I... No." You could've kicked yourself. You hadn't even thought to memorize the plate. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," the officer reassured you, "We'll get the guy. You just worry about getting better." He gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder, as though he wanted to comfort you but was too afraid to touch you. You frowned as the officer walked off. You felt (mostly) fine... You didn't understand why everyone was treating you like you could break at any moment.

***

"Hey... Don't freak out, but I'm not coming to camp today."

You opened with this as soon as Sans picked up the phone. You realized on the ambulance ride to the hospital that you couldn't avoid calling Sans any longer. So you gave "Skeledork" a ring as you sat on a hospital bed, waiting for the doctor to come back with the x-rays she took of your chest. 

"I figured. You shoulda been here five minutes ago. What happened?" You could tell Sans was trying to remain calm, but you could hear the tension in his voice. You clenched your teeth. You had a bad feeling that Sans would have a harder time dealing with this than you.

"I, uh... Got in a car accident. Um, actually, it wasn't really an accident. Someone ran me off the road." There was a beat of silence.

"Where are you?"

"No no no... You're not coming down here. I'm gonna be fine."

"You're _gonna_ be? So you're not fine right now?"

"No, I am!" You huffed, frustrated. The sharp breath caused a jolt of pain in your chest. This was exactly why you didn't call him until now. You didn't dare say that, though... The last thing you wanted was to start a fight. "Just listen to me for two minutes before you do something stupid..."

To Sans' credit, he did shut up and listen to you as you gave him the full rundown of the incident. You started all the way back with the advice you'd given Frisk a mere two hours ago as you dropped them off at school, and ended with where you were at the present moment. Sans was quiet until you finished, at which time he pointed out,

"Shoulda just had the ambulance bring you the rest of the way up to camp... You're not gonna heal until Pap gets his hands on you, anyway."

"I know. But that would've been pretty suspicious. I can wait a while... The doctor doesn't seem to think it's life-threatening, judging by how long it's taking her to get these x-rays back," you joked weakly, which got an equally half-hearted chuckle out of Sans. If you'd been bleeding or something, that would've been a different story. Then you would've had to get to Papyrus immediately, lest you risk losing too much blood. And if you'd been shot? You didn't even want to think about that.

The terrible possibilities of what could've happened to you ran through your head. You suspected Sans was thinking along the same lines. The two of you were quiet for a long time, until Sans spoke up to say,

"Don't hang up on me when the doc comes back. Put me on speakerphone, or something. I wanna hear what she has to say." You furrowed your brow.

"That'll be kinda awkward..."

"I don't care." You laughed a little, which made your pain worse again. 

"Okay, but only if you do me a favor. Can you make sure Asgore knows what happened? I was gonna call him after you, but if you're gonna hog me, then you have to do it."

Sans was more than willing to meet those conditions, and he immediately left through a shortcut to Asgore's house. You listened in, ready to rehash the incident all over again. But, as it turned out, someone had beaten you and Sans to the punch.

"Charlie already informed me of what happened," the King explained. As always, he talked loudly through the receiver, as though unconvinced you could hear him. You had to hold the phone at arm's length to avoid going deaf. "You just missed him. He is on his way down the mountain now to meet up with you."

"Good," Sans said gruffly. Meanwhile, you kicked your heels on the hospital bed.

"He doesn't have to do that..." you mumbled. But, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that he kind of _did_ have to. Your car was totaled beyond hope of saving... You'd need someone to drive you home, at the very least. 

Before Asgore could ask after your health, the doctor re-entered your room armed with a small stack of x-rays. After explaining to her that you had some friends on the phone who had your permission to hear whatever she had to say, she told you bluntly,

"You've got a sternal fracture." She slapped a couple of the x-rays up and pointed out the little, spindly line that formed a crack in your breastbone. "It was probably caused by the seatbelt. You're pretty lucky it's not worse... No broken ribs or punctured lungs. There's not much we can do for this, though. You're just going to have to take it easy and let it heal on its own. Should take 10 to 12 weeks. I can hook you up with some good pain pills in the meantime." You grinned, relieved at the good news. 

"Thanks, but I don't think I'll need pills." After all, you knew you'd only have to deal with it for a day or two... Just until you could get someone to drive you to camp. 

"Give 'em the meds," Sans ordered from the phone, to which you rolled your eyes. The doctor raised her brows.

"I'll send you home with them, just in case," she compromised. It was probably for the best; if you taking the painkillers made Sans feel better about the situation, then you'd do it for his sake.

***

You stayed on the phone with Sans and Asgore until Charlie arrived. While you were being given an ice pack for your chest and a prescription for some strong ibuprofen, on the other end of the call, Daujatas arrived at Asgore's house to inform him that the meeting today was cancelled. Reives and Wolfe weren't even coming to camp. That set off alarm bells in your head. There was no doubt in your mind that this was because of what happened to you, which only confirmed your already strong suspicion that this attack had to do with your ambassador status. 

You were sure they'd been thinking it, too, but you expressed this to Sans and Asgore as soon as you were put in a quiet waiting room to await Charlie's arrival. 

"Unfortunately, I think we must assume that you are correct," Asgore responded gravely. "It is hard to believe that anyone would do this..."

"S'not that hard," Sans growled, "Humans have killed each other over less."

That sent all three of you into a chilled silence. You'd always known on some level that your job was maybe a little dangerous, but it never felt more real than it did now. You leaned back against your uncomfortable waiting room chair, clutching the ice pack tighter to your chest. Asgore finally broke the silence to say,

"I am very sorry you have been put in this position. I cannot help but to feel responsible... I am the one who encouraged you to take this job, after all."

"No, it's not your fault at all. I wanted to do this, and I still do," you asserted confidently, though Sans remained quiet. He usually was, but this sort of quiet felt forced. You could tell, even over the phone, that he was holding himself back from saying something. You were already well aware of his position on your career choice, so you were pretty sure you could guess the nature of his unspoken comment.

"Well, something will have to be done about it, regardless."

Together, you and Asgore kicked around some ideas of how to ensure that this wouldn't happen again. Ultimately, though, there wasn't much the King could do to protect you from human crazies. The best he could come up with was that maybe you should move to a smaller town; namely, South Ebott. But if you did that, you weren't sure you'd be able to go to camp during the weekdays, as it would increase your already ridiculous commute by at least an hour. And even then, you didn't think it would help. If someone was as determined to hurt you as the guy in the white truck, a slightly longer drive wasn't going to deter them. 

Really, it would come down to how much the FBI was willing to do to protect you, which was a scary thought. You hadn't exactly made friends with Reives or Wolfe, and those were the only two government officials you'd ever come in contact with. If Reives wanted to, he could probably extort Asgore for a _lot_ of money to ensure your safety...

Yeah, you couldn't let yourself go down that road. You didn't think that thought had crossed Asgore's mind yet, so you simply let the conversation die after shooting down the South Ebott idea.

"I think this is something we should talk about tomorrow... I'm not feeling up to it right now."

"Of course," Asgore backed down respectfully. Right on cue, you heard two pairs of footsteps approaching your waiting room. A nurse rounded the corner first, followed by a familiar face.

"Hey. You look like hell," Charlie greeted you crassly.

"Wow. Thanks." Your voice may have been laced with sarcasm, but really, you appreciated the levity. To Sans, you said, "Charlie's here now... I gotta go."

"Okay. Be safe." The barely contained panic with which he said that stabbed you in the chest. Or maybe that was just your broken sternum reminding you of your injury as you stood up.

"I will. I'll call you later," you assured him before hanging up unceremoniously. You always ended your calls with an exchange of "I love you"'s but, with the nurse and Charlie standing right there, you didn't think it was worth the discomfort it would cause. 

"Really though, thanks for driving me," you added with more sincerity as the nurse led you and Charlie back out to the main lobby. The officer waved you off dismissively.

"No problem. You can blame Hernandez for the long wait... He has off today, he could've been here much faster. Damn guy wouldn't answer his phone, though." Charlie shook his head. You would've laughed at the ongoing joke that was Hernandez's irresponsibility, but you were well aware of the pain it would've caused, so you held back.

"Um, speaking of driving... Could we make a stop at whatever pharmacy this prescription's for?" You wiggled the paper that was clenched between your fingers, unable to read it when that hand was also occupied with holding your cane. "Oh, and someone has to pick Frisk up from school..."

"Maybe Hernandez had the right idea," Charlie muttered to himself, though he shot you a grin over his shoulder to let you know he wasn't serious.

***

While Charlie took care of getting your prescription filled at the drive-thru pharmacy, you excused yourself from the process to call your mom. You were certain this ordeal would make its way onto the news sooner rather than later, and you wanted to make sure your parents heard about it from you before they saw it on TV. Besides, you had a favor you needed to ask of them.

"Really, I'm okay," you assured your mom for what felt like the hundredth time, "I'm sure there's gonna be some safety precautions now... Don't worry about it. It won't happen again."

"It better not!" Mom's voice was a little shrill. You tilted the phone away from your ear to lower the volume. "That's it... Your father and I are coming down there. I'm not going to let you fend for yourself while those FBI people dink around."

"Actually, I was gonna ask you about that," you segued, desperate to direct the conversation away from your mom's mother-henning, "My car is kinda... destroyed. I was wondering if I could maybe have my old car back? If you want to come visit, you and Dad could bring it with you..."

Even now that you'd made up with them, you felt awkward asking for such a favor from your parents. Technically, your name wasn't on the title of your first car, as it had been a hand-me-down from your Dad. So it wasn't really yours to claim. But cars were expensive, and you didn't want to ask for more money from Asgore to buy a new one. The King was starting to worry about the Underground's economy, as he'd been making steady payments to the humans to rent the land on the mountain for nearly a year now. Things were still fine for now but, with all of that gold going out and none coming in, it was bound to lead to trouble eventually. You didn't want to exacerbate the problem with another large expense. 

"That sounds like a good idea," your mom stated, assuaging your fears. "We'll be there as soon as we can."

"Tonight? But don't you have to work tomorrow?"

"Don't worry about that. We'll be there, and that's that."

She sounded almost happy about this turn of events, which had you thinking that a part of her was maybe glad that she had an excuse to come and see you now. Perhaps you shouldn't have been so dismissive when she suggested coming over to meet Sans. Maybe what she really wanted was just to visit you.

Charlie was pleased when you informed him that you'd have your own car by tonight. He moaned and groaned about having to go out of his way to run your errands, bickering with you light-heartedly about it all the way back to your apartment. You saw right through his innocuous attempts to distract you from the pain in your chest, though you played along obediently. However, not even Charlie could relieve you from the pain you felt in an entirely different location when you spotted a familiar, beat-up station wagon parked outside your building. 

"I'll go pick up the kiddo from school now," the officer announced, despite it being a bit too early for that. 

"...Thanks," you said miserably as you began the slow process of extricating yourself from the car. Carrying your ice pack, pain meds, keys, and cane all at once was quite the feat of dexterity. Lucky for you, you didn't have to open the door for yourself. Reives was already there, waiting. 

"We need to talk," he said, wasting no time. 

"Mhmm," you hummed, your lips pressed tightly together. You walked past him to hit the elevator call button. 

"Are you..." he trailed off as he eyed the ice pack and bag of prescription medicine in your hands. "...Okay?"

You raised your brows. You hadn't been expecting the genuine, if awkward, concern. You supposed you were being a little harsh, if you looked at the situation objectively. It wasn't the agent's fault that some crazy tried to kill you. It was just that you didn't have much faith that he wasn't going to be an ass about this. Maybe you needed to cut him a little slack. Or at least be professional.

"I will be soon, thanks for asking," you said curtly, though not unkindly. Reives entered the elevator with you, making it clear that he was going to follow you to your apartment, like it or not.

"Would you like me to carry something for you?" he asked, holding out his hand in an offer.

"No, thanks." The elevator pinged. You led the way out. Once you reached your door, however, you were at an impasse. You fumbled with your keys, nearly dropping them. Reives held out his hand again.

"Don't be stubborn." 

With a sigh, you handed over the ice pack and the meds, just barely managing to refrain from throwing them at him. Now that you had a free hand, unlocking the door was much easier. As soon as it shut behind him, Reives said simply,

"We caught the guy." Immediately, you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders. You sat down at a stool, careful not to jostle your torso.

"Thank God," you breathed out. "Where? When?"

"Maybe twenty minutes ago, just outside of Pueblo." Your heart lurched at the mention of your hometown. Assuming your parents had left by now, they'd probably driven past the guy on the highway. "Someone called in when they recognized his truck. He hasn't said anything yet, but his name's John Cardin. He's a known human rights activist." You knew from listening to the radio that that was what the most radical anti-monster group called themselves. The news wasn't surprising, but you felt sick to your stomach. You'd been right to assume the attack was targeted.

"Okay, so... What now?" you asked, well aware that your safety basically hinged on what Reives was willing to do for you. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, looking oddly vulnerable. You were used to seeing Reives in a very specific context; either across from a conference table or behind a podium on TV. Seeing him slouching in your kitchen just felt wrong.

"We'll have to increase security around your apartment. Perhaps have an officer stationed at the elementary school, too. And you shouldn't drive up the mountain alone anymore... Any long-distance driving should be done with someone following behind you."

As you sat there and listened, you tried not to let on how surprised you were by all of this. Was he really willing to just _do_ that for you? It seemed out of line with what you knew about Reives. For the first time, you felt like the two of you were on the same team. It was concerning. You had to be doing something wrong, here. Or maybe the rub would come later, when you weren't expecting it. Regardless, you couldn't very well refuse on the grounds that something bad _might_ come of this later. 

"Yeah, I agree," you acquiesced, rubbing your arm self-consciously as you spoke. There was a beat of silence before Reives broke it with something peculiar.

"You know, people have still been disappearing from around Mount Ebott."

"That's not our fault-"

'Yes, I know," he interrupted your stringent defense, "But it is strange. It's been happening more often recently. It is camping season, after all... People won't be deterred from their favorite spots, no matter how many of them never come back. If the disappearances continue at this rate, we might have to restrict access to the mountain." 

You had to think for a minute about why Reives would be telling you this. You had always just assumed that the disappearances were coincidences. No one had fallen into the Underground since Frisk, so the missing people probably just got lost in the woods. You remembered the poster, which still hung up on the announcement board. Even way back in January, you'd thought the number of disappearances was suspicious. Now that Reives was pointing it out to you, too, it only solidified your concern.

"Do you think maybe..." you hesitated, but pressed on, "Maybe someone's been kidnapping people to make it look like the monsters were doing it?" Reives put his glasses back on, crossed his arms, and shot you a knowing look.

"You didn't hear it from me. But we'll be asking Johnny lots of questions... See if he knows anything." You frowned, but nodded. If there was something like that going on, then it was way beyond anything you could help with. But you appreciated being kept in the loop, nonetheless. 

When silence reigned, Reives eventually continued, "Well... Do you... Want me to stay until Officer Tucker returns?"

"No," you answered a little too quickly, then added to soften the blow, "I'm sure you have better things to do. I'll be fine."

"Alright," the agent said, squaring his shoulders and smoothing a hand down his lapel. "I'll organize your guard situation. I am sure you will hear from me soon."

"Right." 

Without further ado, Reives turned and walked out of your apartment. Once you were alone, you got up from your stool and locked the door. Perhaps you should've called Sans back, or asked your parents how close they were, or warned Frisk that Charlie would be picking them up instead of you. But you did none of those things. You desperately needed some time to yourself. 

So you grabbed the icepack Reives had set on the counter, laid down on the couch with it, and just let your thoughts roam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I'll leave you with this artisanally crafted meme for your enjoyment.](https://imgur.com/a/r1rwgiP)


	29. Eye of the Storm

It was clear to you that Frisk didn't understand the full scope of what had happened. When Charlie and the kid arrived back home, they immediately ran up to you and gave you a gentle hug before signing,

 _"Charlie said the Jeep crashed!"_ That was a... bit of an oversimplification of the situation, but you nodded anyway. Maybe Charlie thought the kid didn't need to know the details, but you didn't think that was fair to them. You'd have to explain more thoroughly later, when the dust settled.

"Yup. But don't worry... My mom and dad are coming over to bring us a different car. Everything's gonna be back to normal by tomorrow."

Frisk was excited that your mom and dad were going to sleep over, and even more excited when Charlie agreed to stay with the two of you until your parents arrived. Charlie made a show of lamenting how inconvenient this was for him but, when you insisted that he didn't have to stay if he didn't want to, he mumbled something incomprehensible and plopped himself on your couch. Frisk grabbed up the PS4 controllers and roped you and Charlie into playing games with them. Usually, you made the kid do their homework right after school, but it just didn't seem important today. 

While you played the familiar games, you let yourself relegate the whole messed-up situation to the back of your mind. You were safe, your attacker was caught... You could afford to relax and play video games with your adopted child and police officer friend for a while. The dynamic between you, Charlie, and Frisk was surprisingly fun; you already knew Charlie was good with kids, but it continued to surprise you every time it became relevant. It was almost easy not to think about the interrogation that Reives may or may not have been conducting right at that moment when Charlie's steady stream of increasingly ridiculous, made-up curse word substitutions kept you wheezing with painful laughter.

Mom and Dad arrived at your door just as Frisk's bedtime approached. Eagerly, you buzzed them in while Frisk and Charlie finished up one last race on the PS4.

"Hi, baby," Mom greeted you before pulling your head into her chest, hugging you as best she could without jostling your broken sternum.

"Hey, guys," you said with a huge smile. You were too happy to be embarrassed by the long embrace that took place in front of Charlie. Once your mom let you go, you gave Dad an equally careful hug. He tousled your short hair affectionately with one hand, while the other carried all of your parents' luggage. You assumed most of it was Mom's. 

All in all, this reunion was much more subdued than the first. No one cried; it felt more like coming home after a few months at school. After hugs had been given, your mom jumped immediately to appraising your apartment. Luckily, she didn't have anything terrible to say about it, though you were sure she'd criticize your cleanliness once you were alone.

Speaking of which, the handshakes Charlie gave each of your parents set you on edge. Having this officer who you only had a budding friendship with meet your mom and dad was just the cherry on top of an already very strange day. It was a bit of a relief when, right after introducing himself, Charlie announced that he needed to get back to work. You thanked him again for all of the help he'd given you before he was on his way.

That left just you, your parents, and Frisk. The kid was uncharacteristically shy at first; they hid themself partially behind your legs as you introduced them. However, they quickly warmed up to your parents. Especially your mom, who had worked with kids in the past and even knew a little bit of sign language.

"Hey, Frisk... Are you coming down with a fever?" Mom asked the kid, who gave her a confused look. Still, they allowed your mom to brush their hair aside as she felt their forehead. Mom tsked and said, "Oh dear... I think they feel a little warm. Looks like they'll have to stay home from school tomorrow, huh?" Once they caught on, Frisk gave you a bright, hopeful smile. Your mom winked at you. You rolled your eyes.

"Alright, fine." Frisk pumped the air with their fist, which made both of your parents laugh. You didn't think it mattered too much anymore... If the government was going to get on your ass about Frisk missing a single day of school, they could kiss it.

Shortly after that, you managed to get Frisk to go to sleep. It was difficult, as they were all hyped up from the night's visitors. But eventually, you persuaded them to brush their teeth and head off to bed, leaving only you and your parents in the dimly lit living room.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Dad asked as soon as you returned from bidding Frisk goodnight.

" _Yes_ ," you said almost imploringly. You were getting pretty tired of everyone asking you that. 

"Have you taken any of these pills?" you mom questioned you as she examined the pill bottle on the counter. You held your hand out, and she passed it over.

"Not yet, but I'll take some now," you assured her. You hadn't been planning on actually taking any; your ability to handle pain was a source of pride for you, though you had to admit that it was a stupid thing to be proud of. So you fetched yourself a glass of water, figuring it'd be easier to sleep if you weren't so uncomfortable, anyway. While you were thinking of the sleeping situation, you offered, "You guys can sleep in my bed, if you want. I'll take the couch."

"No, we couldn't-"

"I need to sleep sitting up, anyway," you cut off your dad's protests as you shook two pills out of the container.

"Alright, alright..."

After chasing your pills down with a glass of water, you and your parents held a whispered conversation about random, silly things. At some point, your dad asked if you'd seen the recent episodes of a show the two of you usually watched together. Of course you hadn't; you'd been rather busy and, for the most part, without internet connection for the past year. When you informed him that you'd have to pirate the episodes because you didn't want to waste money on a Netflix subscription, your mom frowned.

"You know, if you ever need money..."

"Oh, no," you waved her off emphatically, "No, Asgore's funding... Well, all of this." You made a sweeping motion with your hand to indicate to the entire apartment, but winced when the motion strained something in your chest. You dropped your arm and took another sip of water. "I just don't want to go spending his money on stuff I don't need, y'know?"

Your parents shared a look as both of them leaned forward minutely. Clearly, you'd hit on something they were curious about. Mom was the first to ask,

"So, are the monsters... nice? Do you have a lot of friends up on the mountain?"

Ah, there it was. You'd noticed that, in your phone conversations with them, your parents tended to avoid talking about monsters. It was pretty obvious that your opinions differed on that topic. Unwilling to start an argument, you'd avoided the subject, too. The only monster you'd ever mentioned by name before was Sans, and even then, you didn't say much about him. The fact that your parents had brought it up on their own seemed like a good sign.

"Yeah! They're all really nice..." you hesitated, then amended, "Most of them, anyway. I mean, they're not all saints... Just like normal people. But, yeah, I have a lot of friends who lived in the Underground." You couldn't find it in you to be dishonest, and saying that every monster was the pinnacle of virtue would've been just that. But the worst thing any monster had ever done to you in this timeline was bump into you on the street, whereas a human had almost murdered you today. 

"What..." Dad paused, thought for a minute, then revised his question, "Why do you think that? I'm sorry, but I just haven't seen them do anything so... nice, like you said." You furrowed your brow and retorted,

"Well, you haven't really met any of them."

"We've met one!" Mom piped up, nudging Dad's arm. "That big skeleton thing, remember?"

"Orion doesn't count," you cut in immediately, not thinking before you spoke. Of course, your parents didn't know that it was _you_ they'd spoken to at the border during the first camp protest, not a monster. Your palms began to sweat as your mom and dad looked at you, surprised. "Uh... I just mean that... You didn't actually _meet_ them, right? Did you even know their name?"

"Well, no," Mom conceded grudgingly. 

"Exactly," you said, relieved that you'd gotten yourself out of that slip. "I know a lot of them, and they've... They've done a lot for me."

"Like what?" Dad asked, though he sounded more interested than accusatory. You bit your lip and turned your head to stare out the window. It was dark out, though the light pollution from the city meant that you couldn't see the stars. 

"Like... Helping me get out of the Underground. There was a lot that went into that... More than I can say," you admitted. You couldn't tell your parents about... Well, any of it. The game, your death, Orion... They could never truly know what you'd been through, or how much your monster friends had done for you. 

"Why not?" Mom's softly-worded question gave you pause. You weren't supposed to tell anyone about magic, and that was part of it. Although... What would be the harm in telling your parents? They wouldn't tell anyone. But what really held your tongue was the part about Undertale. You and Sans had agreed never to tell anyone about that game now that it had been erased from the public consciousness. As long as it was possible for someone to use the game to reset the world, it was dangerous. If you wanted to spill your guts to your parents, you had to at least get Sans' blessing first.

"I just can't right now. Maybe in the future..." You yawned involuntarily. The motion caused a twinge in your chest, but it wasn't as intense as usual. The pills were starting to take effect.

"You need to get some rest," Mom announced before promptly standing up. "We should let them sleep," she said to your dad, who followed suit.

"Right. We can talk more later." Dad walked up to you and ruffled your hair again. The love in his expression made your heart ache. "Sleep well."

"Goodnight, baby," Mom said as she bent down to kiss your forehead.

"'Night." You felt like a kid again. You reached behind yourself to pull the fuzzy throw blanket down from the back of the couch, clutching it to your stomach like a lifeline. You watched your parents leave, then let out a tired sigh when you heard the door to your room close softly behind them.

You couldn't fall asleep just yet. You promised Sans you would call him, after all. Any sane person would've assumed you'd forgotten by this time of night, but you knew Sans would wait up indefinitely for you. It would've been cruel to leave him hanging. You leaned back against the couch, getting as comfortable as you could before dialing his number. He answered after the first ring. 

Despite his eagerness to talk to you, the conversation ended up being very short. You just barely got through updating Sans on what Reives had told you, as you were only able to talk for a measly ten minutes before falling asleep on him. 

When you woke up again at two in the morning from the ibuprofen wearing off, you found that he still hadn't hung up on you. Groggily, you pressed the phone to your ear. Despite the pain in your chest, you chuckled softly when you heard his slow breathing. 

"I love you," you whispered into the receiver quietly enough that it wouldn't wake him, then finally ended the four hour long call.

***

The next time you awoke, it was to the smell of coffee. You moaned and tried to roll onto your side, but the sharp pain made you rethink that idea. In your sleep, you'd somehow gone from sitting up mostly straight to lying down on your back. It was uncomfortable. Awful. Everything was terrible.

The only thing that made you not hate life so much was the sound of familiar, comforting voices whispering indistinctly to each other. You clenched your teeth and pulled yourself into a sitting position. The new angle allowed you to see your parents' backs in the kitchen as they huddled around the stove. Your mom snorted at something your dad said, then shooed him away from the pan that was on the burner. It was at that moment that Dad caught sight of you sitting up on the couch.

"Now look what you've done," he tapped Mom on the shoulder and pointed at you. "I told you the coffee would wake them up."

"Shush," she brandished a spatula at him threateningly before giving you a warm smile. "Good morning, baby. How'd you sleep?"

"Okay..." you mumbled before swinging your legs off of the couch. _Everything_ was sore, though your chest was the worst offender. To keep your mind off of it, you asked, "What're you making?"

"Pancakes. We found batter in your pantry," Dad answered while Mom went back to work. He looked back at the pan and said, "Hey, that one broke... Now it's ruined."

"Oh, shut it!" That got a smile out of you. While they continued to banter, you relied heavily on your cane to limp into the kitchen, where you headed straight for the prescription pills that you were now begrudgingly grateful Sans had made you get. 

Despite the unfortunate circumstances that led to it, the visit from your parents led to a surprisingly nice day. You woke Frisk up so that they wouldn't miss out on pancakes, and the four of you had a hearty breakfast together. While you ate, you messed with Frisk by putting your foot on their stool. They hated that, for some reason, even though you weren't doing anything but touching it. Their protests only fueled you, and you only stopped when your mom scolded you for teasing the kid. 

"I swear, you act more like their sibling than their guardian," Mom admonished you, but you kind of liked that idea. Truthfully, you _felt_ more like Frisk's big sibling than their parent. Unfortunately, they needed you to be a parent more than a sibling, so you stopped bugging them. For now. 

After breakfast, Dad used his phone to look up kid-friendly things to do in North Ebott. You weren't up for going anywhere, but your parents insisted that they wanted to take Frisk out for the day. It would give the kid something fun to do while you got a little time alone to rest. You were all for that, and cheerily waved the three of them goodbye when they left for the zoo. 

For a while after they left, you seriously considered driving up to camp, getting healed, and driving back before they returned. Your parents had brought your old car; technically, you could do it. However, not only would going to camp on a Wednesday look really suspicious given your usual schedule, but you wouldn't have a guard tailing you if you went today. It was possible that your attacker from yesterday might have like-minded friends, and... You were just too afraid to go alone. So you would have to deal with your broken sternum for one more day. 

Instead, you decided to take a nap. A very long one. You slept most of the day, actually. The rest was spent just lounging around, messing with your phone. You usually made a point to stay away from the news when you were trying to relax but, this time, you actively sought out websites that might give you an idea of how far the information about your incident had spread. 

The answer was that it hadn't yet. There was no mention of the crash on any of the national or local news sites, which you found surprising. But you supposed you hadn't interacted with very many people during your rescue, so it wasn't impossible that they all just kept quiet about it. Although, you had the sneaking suspicion that Reives had something to do with how hush-hush it was. You couldn't figure out why... Maybe because it was an active investigation? You weren't sure how this legal stuff worked, but you were glad the word hadn't gotten out yet. You'd been mostly out of the news as of late, so you had to mentally prepare yourself for people talking about you again.

All of the rest you'd managed to get put you in a good mood by the time your parents and Frisk got back from the zoo. The four of you lounged around for a while longer as you played a board game your parents had brought from home. Frisk won every time, despite the fact that you knew you weren't letting them win and you were pretty sure your parents weren't, either. The kid wanted to rope your mom and dad into playing another round, but it had to come to an end at some point. Your parents had lives, too, and they couldn't live with you forever.

"We'll come and visit again soon," Mom promised, "Maybe this weekend?"

"We usually go up to camp on the weekends, but, uh... Maybe you could come along, if you wanted?" You framed it as a question, still unsure if it was a good idea. You'd have to make absolutely sure it was okay with Sans beforehand. But, after the conversation you'd had with your parents last night, you felt a little bit more confident that they'd at least keep an open mind around the monsters. Your dad smiled at you warmly and said,

"We'd like that."

***

The next day, you were back on your regular schedule. The only sign that anything abnormal had happened was that there was a guard waiting for you outside of your apartment, ready to follow you to Frisk's school and to camp. You'd been hoping it'd be one of the guards whose names you knew, but no luck. You were stuck with a stranger, though she seemed nice enough. Frisk was confused as to why someone was trailing the two of you. You told them you'd explain it later, as you didn't really have time to get into the full story. 

On your way to drop Frisk off at school, they informed you that they had taken your advice on Tuesday and introduced themself to a pair of kids who sat in the corner of the cafeteria. You let out a small sigh of relief; you'd been kind of worried about how Frisk would act now that the two of you were alone again, but you needn't have been concerned. The long, drawn-out argument you'd been having with them seemed to fade away in the wake of your near-death experience. They were plenty happy to chat with you about their friend-making adventures. However, as they hopped out of the car and bid you a cheery goodbye, you had to wonder how long it would last. You never did fully resolve your dispute about Flowey, and it was bound to come up again eventually.

You relegated that to the back of your mind as you started making your way up the mountain, the guard's black SUV following in your wake. Charlie and Hernandez had been right to push you to get a Jeep initially; your little, white Honda really struggled to make it up the steep inclines of the mountain road. It was so touch-and-go that you hardly noticed as you passed the site of your high-speed chase, consumed as you were with just making it up the road. Still, your stomach lurched when you caught sight of the splintered tree you'd crashed into just two days prior. The debris was already cleared up, with no other sign remaining that anything untoward had happened there.

It took longer than usual for you to reach the camp. When you did, it was immediately apparent that no one was manning the checkpoint. The front gate was wide open. Sure enough, when you pulled up to the small building, no one was there. 

You glanced back at the guard on your tail. She stuck a hand out the window and waved you forward. With her permission, you shrugged and rolled into camp. Now that you were thinking about it, you thought you remembered Charlie mentioning on Tuesday that he was in charge of the checkpoint this week. So why wasn't he there?

You got your answer almost immediately upon pulling into camp. Charlie was in the middle of the road, talking to Sans. You would've assumed they were just chatting, had it not been for the looks on their faces. Charlie's brow was furrowed with worry, while Sans listened to whatever he was saying with his hands clenched in his pockets. You knew it was something serious when Sans only shot you a quick glance as you drove in before turning his back to you to continue listening to Charlie. If it was nothing, he would've completely forgotten Charlie was there and gone to greet you right away. 

Quickly, you parked your old car next to your house, grabbed your cane from the backseat, and made your way over to them. By the time you walked around your car, they were both staring at you, waiting for you to approach. 

"Hernandez is missing," Charlie launched into it immediately. You frowned, but he didn't give you time to comment before explaining, "He's supposed to be in today, but he hasn't showed up."

"Maybe he just overslept," you offered, well aware that Hernandez was known for slacking off at work. 

"Yeah, that's what the others think. But I don't think so... He wasn't answering his phone on Tuesday, either. He never got back to me. That's unlike him." You scratched your head and leaned heavily on your cane.

"Well... Why don't you try calling him again?"

"No reception up here, babe," Sans reminded you patiently.

"Oh, right. Duh." You tapped your foot on the ground, thoroughly stumped. After a moment of silence, Charlie asked,

"Would you guys mind doing a favor for me?" You and Sans looked at each other, then nodded at the same time. "Could you go up to Hernandez's tower and just... take a look around? I would, but I really have to get back to my station..." He glanced over at the gate, looking uncharacteristically nervous. You weren't sure what he thought you might find in the Northeast tower, but his worried expression made you relent.

"Sure. Of course." After you, Sans piped up with,

"We'll let you know if we find anything." Charlie smiled at the two of you.

"Thanks. It's probably nothing, but I 'preciate it."

With that, he left the two of you to jog back to the checkpoint, where the guard who'd followed you up the mountain was leaning against the open gate with her arms crossed. She looked none too happy with him. You turned to face Sans and stuffed your hand in your pocket, subconsciously mimicking his position.

"Weird, huh? I guess we should go take a look."

"You need to get healed first," Sans said with a frown. He put a hand on your arm and scanned you up and down, as though searching for signs of your injury. He would find none, though; you'd taken your pills recently and were feeling comfortably pain-free. 

"I'll be good for ten minutes. This is more urgent," you insisted, and Sans nodded reluctantly. The fingers around your arm slid down to intertwine with your own, and you walked hand-in-hand toward Hernandez's tower. Once you reached the cover of the trees, you felt a tingle in the back of your brain as Sans used a shortcut to bring you right up to the tower's base. 

After an arduous stair-climb, you found yourself at the top of the Northeast guard tower. You'd never been up any of the towers except for Charlie's, so it surprised you how different this one looked. There was no need for a big conference table, since meetings weren't held here. Instead, the space was filled with personal amenities. You were amused to find bean bag chairs in lieu of the tall-backed chairs in the Northwest tower, plus a rather impressive and unexpected assortment of classic novels. These were organized neatly on stout bookshelves, which wrapped around the short walls of the tower. You wondered if these were Hernandez's, or if they belonged to the other guard he shared the tower with. 

The books, however, were the only parts of the tower's interior that could've been considered organized. Random office toys were strewn all over the floor. You had to assume that they'd each been played with exactly once, then dropped and never thought about again. You were amused to find a Rubik's cube among the collection, with its colors half-scrambled. Someone had partially solved it, then must've gotten stuck. 

"D'you think..." Sans started as he walked into the center of the room, pausing to survey the scene. "D'you think someone might've taken him? Like what Reives said about the people disappearin' on the mountain."

You bit your lip and looked at the floor. You didn't know. How could someone have managed to kidnap an _armed guard_? And why, when there were easier targets? It didn't make sense.

"Let's not assume anything," you said, though you were aware that it was a non-answer. Sans clicked his jaw. He was more anxious about Hernandez than you would've thought he'd be.

Wordlessly, you and Sans started sifting through the items on the floor. You had no idea what you were looking for... Nothing seemed to point toward where Hernandez might've gone. And why would it? You were just starting to think this whole thing was a bust when Sans said,

"Hey, c'mere. I found his phone." Despite having called you over, Sans came to you. You hummed as you took the phone from him, confused. Why wouldn't he bring his phone with him when he went home for his days off? 

Luckily, it wasn't password protected. Your lips twitched up in a brief smile when you saw his home screen. It was a picture of himself and another man, who you assumed had to be his boyfriend. They had their cheeks pressed together as they smiled goofily at the camera. 

"Let's see who he texted last..." you mused aloud for Sans' benefit as you navigated to his messages. A contact named "Mi Alma" was at the top of the list. Strangely, there were seven unsent, outgoing messages. The reason they hadn't gone through was obvious; the timestamps indicated that they were sent at a time when Hernandez would've been working. Like Sans said before, no one got reception up here, so the texts had nowhere to go.

Me - Monday 3:15 PM: "sugar?"  
Me - Monday 3:15 PM: "you there?"  
Me - Monday 3:16 PM: "hey"  
Me - Monday 3:16 PM: "hey"  
Me - Monday 3:16 PM: "if you playin me, im gonna be pissed"  
Me - Monday 3:17 PM: "..."  
Me - Monday 3:21 PM: "shit"

You and Sans looked at each other, but didn't need to say anything. You were both confused by this. You closed out of the messages and started searching through other apps. There was nothing abnormal in his recent calls, memos, or calendar. It was only when you opened his email that you found something very odd.

" _What?_ " you muttered to yourself as you stared, dumbfounded, at an email Hernandez had _received_ at 3:12 PM on Monday afternoon. That shouldn't have been possible, if he was on the mountain at the time. The subject line read "URGENT - Need Help," though the email appeared to have been sent from... No one? There was no sent address. Hernandez was the only recipient. 

You opened the email. It read,

"Babe. I need help. Please. Someone's after me. Please hurry.

40.987075, -105.927249

I love you.

\- Zack"

"I recognize those coordinates," Sans proclaimed before you even finished reading. You gave him an incredulous look, because you didn't. Not at all. Unless... 

"Oh! The barn!" It had been so long that you barely remembered. But you did recall Reives writing similar coordinates down back when you'd pointed out the old barn on a map. "Why...?"

"I dunno. But this seems fishy, right?" Sans indicated to the email on screen. 

"Oh yeah, for sure. But I guess he couldn't get ahold of anyone to confirm if it was really his boyfriend, so he probably just went to see for himself..." You trailed off. Was Hernandez really so cocky that he thought he could get out of the obvious trap he was walking into alone? Then again... If there was even the slightest possibility Sans was in trouble, you knew you wouldn't wait around for confirmation. You'd be in there after him in a heartbeat. _Mi Alma..._

You felt another tingle in your mind.

"There's a shortcut to the barn right behind you. There's so many damn shortcuts to that place," Sans said, frowning even as he opened it. "Looks quiet from what I can see, but I dunno." You looked over your shoulder, knowing full well you wouldn't be able to see the portal. 

"Should we go tell Charlie? Let the humans look into it?" Sans fidgeted with the zipper on his sweatshirt before finally replying,

"No. It could take them hours to get there. Leo might need help now." With a sense of finality, he unzipped his sweatshirt and took your hand in his. "Let's go. If somethin' goes wrong, we'll just bounce. No biggie."

You gripped his hand tightly. If this really was some kind of anti-monster cult you were pursuing, then this was bound to be dangerous. But you weren't afraid. Getting shot at when you were alone in the woods... That was scary. But, as long as you were with Sans, you felt invincible. You trusted him to lead you back to safety if things got hairy. He would never let you get hurt. Ever. 

You grinned at him.

"Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter sure took a turn, huh?
> 
> The next chapter is the last one of Kindness... I know I said it'd go up to 32 initially, but that change I made earlier ended up cutting out two chapters from here and adding one to an upcoming part. We're back on track now, though!


	30. Humans Are Such Easy Prey

With nothing but your cane and Hernandez's phone in your pocket, you stepped blindly through the shortcut with Sans. The sight that greeted you was, to be honest, underwhelming. You were in front of the barn, alright. It looked exactly how you remembered it from all those months previous. Except, perhaps, for one key difference; the heavy, sliding door was wide open. You couldn't remember if you'd left it that way, or if someone else had opened it since your departure.

Regardless, there didn't appear to be anyone inside at the moment. Unless someone was hiding out of sight, there were no obvious signs of life in the barn. You looked around at the wilderness that surrounded you, but all seemed calm. Peaceful.

"I don't see anyone," you pointed out, obvious as it was. Sans grunted. 

"Me neither. Let's take a look inside... Stay close." You followed his advice dutifully. You let go of his hand and let him take the lead, your footprints in the dirt aligning perfectly with his. 

There was an aura of unease as you stepped in the barn, though you couldn't be sure if that was your human intuition telling you that something bad was going to happen or if you were just paranoid due to the circumstances. If you looked at things objectively, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There was the trough, the old farm equipment, the ladder going up to the loft, the holes Orion had made in the ceiling... Everything in its rightful place. Even the birds sang familiar, merry songs of springtime from the rafters. 

You followed closely behind Sans until the two of you came to the middle of the room. Shafts of slanted light beamed down on you. You swatted at a fly that had the audacity to land on your arm. After a moment of just standing around, Sans finally spoke up.

"I dunno. I thought something woulda happened by now." You nodded in agreement.

"They must've taken Hernandez to a secondary location. Or maybe he never even made it here. I wonder how long it'd take to hike-"

You were cut off abruptly. Not by a startling sight or sound, but by something much stranger. You felt the same sort of tingle that you experienced whenever Sans opened a shortcut near you, but amplified by a factor of a hundred. A silent buzz electrified your brain as invisible magic popped in and out of existence all around you. Distantly, you heard the sound of your cane hitting the ground as you dropped it in favor of clutching your head with both hands. It wasn't painful, per say, but it was just... A lot. 

"Don't move," Sans ordered. His pupils contracted to pinpricks as they darted around wildly in fear.

"What's happening?!" you finally got enough sense to ask. 

"Shortcuts. They're... opening and closing. All of them," he explained, but it wasn't very helpful. You had to assume by the mixed look of awe and terror on his face that he wasn't the one doing it. But who... And why? Whoever was using _this_ much magic had to be insanely powerful. Opening one shortcut was a breeze, sure, but _all_ of them in the barn? And there was no one around... If you didn't have some weird, sixth sense for the shortcuts, you wouldn't have even noticed anything had changed. 

"Do they lead somewhere?" you asked while your eyes began to water. It was like someone was rubbing a wet cloth over your brain. 

"I mean, sure. All over the place. They're the same shortcuts as always, but they just keep opening and closing over and over. I've never seen anything like it." Sans' head swivelled as he, presumably, gawked at all of the portals flickering in front of him. He kept his feet planted firmly on the ground, as did you. You didn't want to accidentally step through one. 

"Well... What do we do?" you asked, your tone a little desperate. You didn't want to be stuck here forever... Your knees were already shaking. But you didn't dare bend down to pick up your cane.

"I..." Sweat formed on Sans' brow. "Hold on. Don't move while I try something." His expression smoothed over with intense concentration. Unsure what he was trying to do, you stared at him skeptically. After some time, a small smile appeared on his face, as though he'd accomplished something you couldn't see. He took a brave step forward, and...

Disappeared.

"Sans?!?" Your voice was shrill as you called his name. You lurched toward where you saw him last, but quickly jerked to a stop. The buzzing was still in your head; shortcuts were still open. 

Maybe this was part of the plan? But you couldn't help feeling like this wasn't what Sans had intended. You waited a few heartbeats, thinking he would just reappear back through the same shortcut once he realized his mistake. 

But he didn't. You waited and waited for a full minute, but he never came back. Why?

The hairs on the back of your neck prickled. You didn't know how, but something had gone very wrong. Sans wouldn't leave you alone like this if he had any say in it. 

"SANS!" you shouted, though you doubted he could hear you. Wildly, you searched the barn for some way out of this. You looked at the door, then up at the loft where your makeshift bed of straw still laid. You knew from previous experience as Orion that this place was extremely dense with shortcuts, so you had no faith that you'd be able to get to either of those places without hitting one. And if you didn't happen to hit the same shortcut as Sans, you'd be stranded somewhere random without any way back.

That gave you an idea. A dumb idea, but an idea. If you tried to aim for the same shortcut Sans had taken, you'd at least end up in the same place. You steeled yourself, then took a long stride toward where you thought Sans had disappeared.

Almost immediately after you made horizontal movement, you found yourself somewhere completely different. Mercifully, there was no buzzing here. But that was the only piece of good news. Everything was dark, despite it having been mid-morning at the barn. You were indoors... In a hallway, of sorts. The floor was white and sterile, while the gray walls were equally bare. The only light in the room came from the sea green glow that emanated from each of the evenly-spaced doorways along the hallway. 

That lighting was what made you realize. You were in the void.

Your stomach plummeted with dread. You couldn't be here... How was it possible? 

The void looked the same, yet so different from how you remembered it. The last time you were here, everything had appeared hazy. Out of focus. Now, things were much sharper. You could almost see down the entire length of the hallway, though things got a little foggy toward the end. And now, finally, you were able to make out what the green lights were, exactly. As you inspected them, you realized that the breaks in the walls weren't doorways, but cells. Horizontal lines of green, magical energy formed the bars. There didn't appear to be any way in or out of them. 

You crept up to one of the cells to examine it further. Your heart pounded as you peered inside. Like the end of the hallway, everything was a little hazy. There was some sort of lumpy shape slumped against the back wall, though the inside of the cell was too out of focus for you to make out what it was, exactly...

"You shouldn't have moved."

You nearly jumped out of your skin, but it was only Sans. Relief flooded your body. You didn't know how or why you'd ended up here, but at least Sans was with you. He stood in the middle of the hallway, his shoulders hunched. Sweat ran down his face. He wiped it with his sleeve, agitated, before sticking his hands back in his pockets. 

"How'd we get here?" Your voice reverberated strangely. By the way it sounded, you would've thought you were in an echo chamber, not a closed-off room. You hoped that Sans would have more insight than you, but your hopes were dashed.

"No clue." His head whipped around as he checked his surroundings. You did the same. There was no one around.

Your eyes were drawn to the foggy end of the hallway. The room seemed to stretch in length the longer you stared at it. You felt lightheaded.

"What's down there?" you wondered out loud. Sans snapped you out of it by grabbing your arm. You turned sharply to look at him.

"We should go." His voice cracked. You shook yourself, then nodded resolutely. If the barn had given you a bad feeling, then the void was practically oozing with dread at every turn. You didn't know where its... _inhabitant_ was, but you'd prefer to leave before you found out. This wasn't where you needed to be, anyway. You were supposed to be searching for Hernandez.

However, when you looked over Sans' shoulder, you immediately noticed a problem.

"Door's gone." Sans whirled around to see for himself, but you were right. The gray door that Orion had once entered and exited through wasn't there anymore. Sans' grip on your arm tightened to the point where his fingers were undoubtedly bruising your skin.

"There's... no shortcuts here," he muttered. If a skeleton could've gone pale, you knew Sans would have. "There's no way out." 

"But how did we get here, then?" you asked once more, your voice high-pitched. None of this made any sense... You were starting to suspect that you were dreaming. You'd dreamt about this place before, after all. 

Before you could entertain that thought to its fullest, a sudden noise broke the eerie silence. A door opened behind you, then slammed shut. You yelped, your heart leaping into your throat. You didn't have time to react before Sans yanked you backward, putting himself between you and the noise. The two of you could only watch, helpless, as a tall, dark figure emerged from the hazy end of the hallway. 

Like his purgatorian home, Dr. Gaster had changed since last you met. No longer was his body merely a dark, goopy blob. His torso had form; it was clearer now that he used to be a skeleton, once. His black peacoat hugged his ribs, and his hands were connected to his body by thin, slightly-too-long arms. However, somewhere around his waist, things started to break down. His lower body had little shape. His legs were insubstantial, and his feet... nonexistent. Instead, he seemed to slide over the ground using the sort of goopy blackness you had come to associate with him.

"I apologize for the wait." His smooth voice carried clearly down the hallway. The strange warble that used to characterize his speech was entirely gone. "I had a bit of a mess to take care of, first."

You and Sans could only stare, speechless, as Gaster floated down the hallway toward you. You shuddered as he stepped out of the haze, his features becoming clearer the closer he got. His broken, drooping skull looked as grotesque as ever, though he seemed so much taller than last time. When he got a little too close, Sans took a quick step backward, pushing you back with him. Gaster stopped moving. A wide smile split his face in half.

"Sans. I am glad to see you well again." Ridiculously, Gaster spread his arms wide. Was he expecting a hug? You couldn't see Sans' sneer from your position, but you could hear it laced in his voice as he said,

"You threw me into a wall and cracked my skull open." Your gaze flicked down briefly to look at the tiny hole in the back of his head. Gaster lowered his arms slowly, then put them behind his back.

"As I recall, Orion was rather insistent that the three of you were, in fact, not one in the same. But I suppose that is a fair accusation. Once again, I must apologize. Your mutated form was being... intransigent."

"How did you bring us here? What did you do?" You cut off the tense father-son reunion with your loud, demanding questions. It was clear to you by Gaster's calm demeanor that your being here was not an accident. But how? And why did he want you here now, when he had pushed so hard against your presence before?

For the first time, the white pupils in Gaster's eyes slid up to look at you. His expression morphed to one of bored contempt. He didn't answer you, but instead directed to Sans,

"Still dragging this wretched human around? I am disappointed, Sans. I thought the splitting of your souls would free you from their influence. Clearly, I was wrong." Your partner shifted to press you closer behind him. You could feel his spine shaking through his two layers of clothes. "Though I suppose some good has come of it, after all," Gaster continued talking as he inched closer to you. He held out a hand, palm up. "Let go of the human, and we can talk. I believe it is time I explain to you what I am doing, here. You have gotten close to figuring it out on your own, anyway. Perhaps you can help, if you still wish to do so."

"Absolutely not," Sans growled, "Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of them. Answer their question." 

Gaster clicked his jaw in a way that was awfully similar to what Sans did when he was frustrated. The skeleton's asymmetric eyes focused on you again. For a split second, you thought there was something in his expression... It looked like hunger. You shivered.

"Very well," Gaster spoke abruptly, putting an end to the chilling moment. "You asked how I brought you here. There are some places that have an abnormally high number of wormholes. Surely you've noticed... They tend to be areas frequented by one or both of you." He fixed you and Sans with curious, inquisitive looks before continuing,

"The dilapidated barn you just came from is one of them. I must admit that my control over these wormholes is limited... Not so precise as yours, Sans. But it is through manipulating the wormholes that I was able to bring you here. It is the same way I brought _everyone_ here, in fact." 

He indicated to the rows of cells around him. Wide-eyed, you peered into the one nearest you. Something about Gaster's proximity had caused the remaining haze in the void to disappear, and you could now make out exactly what was inside. This particular cell contained two child-sized figures. Both slumped against the wall, both with their heads turned away so you couldn't see their faces. But you thought you could take an educated guess as to who they were.

It wasn't a human cult causing people to go missing on Mount Ebott.

"LEO!" Sans called out, making you flinch. His head whipped around as he looked for the guard in the cells nearest you. Your hand came up to clutch his arm just as tightly as he was holding yours. 

"Sans..." you hissed, bending down to his level so you could whisper without Gaster hearing you, "If anyone was alive, don't you think they'd be moving? Or saying something?"

It was true; it was deathly quiet. And the people slumped in their cells... You couldn't even see their chests moving. They weren't breathing. There was no life here. You were sure of it.

"What the _fuck_ ," Sans spat loudly. Disgust dripped from every word. You felt ill, yourself.

" _Why?_ " you cried as you blinked up at Gaster, who remained unfazed. "So many of them were _kids_! How could you..." You thought about all of the parents at those protests. Of course, it was always kind of assumed that the children were never going to come back home. Sad, but probably true. But there was something about seeing the bodies locked away neatly behind bars. Something about standing in front of the man... The _monster_ who did it... Knowing that they'd been here this whole time... You couldn't believe it. You had to be dreaming.

"I did tell you, did I not?" he said, his expression carefully blank, "I had a plan to escape the void, and it is nearing fruition. Look at me." He spread his arms wide. As he did so, a cruel smile formed on his face. "Soon, I will be able to step foot on the surface. Is that not what you wanted from the beginning? To see me freed?"

"Now? I hope you rot here forever," Sans growled. You didn't have to see his face to know his eyes were black. You tightened your grip on his upper arm. Gaster tsked.

"I understand it is a shock to be confronted with something so... unpleasant. But allow me to explain my methodology, and I am certain you will see the genius behind all of this." For the second time, Gaster held out his hand to Sans. His eyes were bright with excitement.

He was crazy. Just insane on every level. Nervously, you glanced back at the bodies on your left. All of the hair on your arms stood on end. You had to get out of here. You didn't fully understand what Gaster was doing with these people or why, but you didn't need to. You and Sans were woefully unprepared to... What? _Kill_ Gaster? You weren't sure it was even possible to kill what was already dead. This was so much worse than anything you could've imagined. Your only option now was to save yourselves.

"Fuck you," Sans swore again. He let go of your forearm and took a challenging step toward his father. Panicked, you yanked him back. Was he stupid? Gaster either didn't notice the obvious provocation, or didn't care. 

"Hmm. That is a shame... I was hoping we could work together again. Like old times." He shook his head and slowly lowered the proffered hand. "Fine. I should be avoiding distractions, anyway. Leave me." To your surprise, Gaster half-turned away from you and flicked his hand lazily. You whirled around in time to see a familiar, light gray door appear behind you and Sans. Sans pulled against your vice grip on his arm, wanting to move toward Gaster rather than away.

"Later," you hissed at him, frantically tugging him back toward you and the door, "We gotta go."

For the first time since this began, Sans looked at you. If he saw in your expression only a fraction of the fear you actually felt, then he had to know you were as terrified as you'd ever been. This was not a battle either of you could fight. If this really wasn't a dream, then it was too late to save Hernandez, anyway. 

The lights came back on in Sans' eyes. His expression smoothed over. The angry grimace on his face flattened into a look of determination, the likes of which you rarely saw on him. He nodded, then tapped your hand lightly. You let him go.

Without another word, the two of you headed for the door. You backed up a few steps in sync with one another, but Sans was the first to be able to turn his back on Gaster and start walking away proper. You, however, were frozen for a moment. Gaster wasn't moving; he simply stared back at you. He turned back around to face you fully, his hand slowly lowering until it was at his side again. The dim, green lights cut sharp shadows on his face, giving him a ghostly appearance. He said nothing. Did nothing. So you turned around and started to follow behind Sans, defeated.

Almost immediately after taking your first step, a huge weight suddenly slammed into you from above. You fell face-first to the ground under the heavy, invisible force. As soon as your already-broken sternum cracked against the floor, you _shrieked_. The pain was immense. So much so that you barely even heard Gaster's voice as he said coldly,

"Not you."

The weight pressing you down did not relent. It ground your chest into the floor, taking your breath away. Black spots obfuscated your vision so much that you didn't see whatever Sans had done in retaliation. All you knew was that, when you looked up an instant later, he had been flung against the wall like a ragdoll. He got to his feet painfully and raised his hand. In response, he was thrown against the same wall a second time. You struggled to get up and go to his aid, but you were completely immobile.

"Sans... This no longer concerns you." Behind you, Gaster spoke softly, as if gently reprimanding a child. "You may leave."

"Like hell!" Sans scrambled to his feet again and ran to close the short distance between you. You were afraid he'd be tossed around again, but Gaster allowed this. Sans slid on his knees as he dropped down to your level. He put his hands on your shoulders and tried to yank you up, but it only caused another intense wave of pain. You were afraid that, if you opened your mouth to protest, all that would come out was a scream. Instead, you pounded on the ground with your palm in an effort to get him to stop. Just _stop_ , please...

He did.

"I am not slaughtering humans for fun, you know," Gaster pointed out, his tone growing more stern. "I need them. It is such a chore trying to coax them here, so when one wanders so willingly into my lap... I cannot pass up such an opportunity. You see, I need-"

Whatever Gaster needed, you never found out. Quick as lightning, Sans stood up, whirled around, and shot a blaster directly at its maker. You didn't see this, but the deafening sound was distinct. Suddenly, the crushing gravity lifted, and you were able to roll onto your back and out of the way of the action.

You scrambled backward until your spine hit the wall, your eyes wide and breath coming in sharp gasps as you watched Sans fire shot after shot at Gaster. The barrage was never-ending... Sans couldn't make the giant, hulking blaster that Orion was capable of, but the sheer number of consecutive blasts more than made up for their size. Unfortunately, his attack had about as much impact as Orion's; when Sans fell back to his knees, exhausted, Gaster was still standing in the same spot as if nothing had happened.

"Are you finished?" he asked mockingly. Sans heaved himself to his feet and side-stepped to block you more thoroughly from Gaster's view. 

"Never." You could only see Sans' back as an arsenal of bones appeared around him, hovering in midair for a moment before they launched themselves at their target. Gaster actually bothered to dodge this time, which made you think that perhaps he wasn't completely invulnerable. He seemed to dissolve into a cloud of thick, slushy smoke, which slithered on the ground disgustingly before he rematerialized outside of the line of fire.

That was as much as you saw before you realized that you had to kick your ass into gear. If you could just get to the door, you could end this. Once you escaped, Sans could follow, and you'd both be out in the real world where Gaster couldn't pursue you. 

Trying to back Sans up in this fight would've been ridiculous. You couldn't do magic, you were already injured, you had no weapons... Nothing but your fists to fight with. And you had absolutely no experience with fighting, anyway. Still, once you managed to claw your way to your feet, clutching your chest with one arm, it was incredibly difficult to turn your back on Sans and stumble toward the door, instead. You desperately wanted to launch yourself between him and Gaster... Anything to keep him from getting hurt. But it was stupid... stupid... You had to trust him to hold his own and follow behind you when the moment was right.

The sounds of blasters and splintering bones raged behind you as you walked, but you kept your eyes fixed on the door handle. You were almost close enough to reach out and touch it when a cloud of black smoke surged past you. Suddenly, Gaster was blocking your path. He towered over you and, before either you or Sans could do anything about it, reached out and touched your forehead with the mutilated palm of his hand. 

A flash of electrictricity surged through your veins. Your heart skipped a beat. When it started up again, its pace was much slower. The adrenaline washed out of your system in one big flood, leaving you unreasonably calm. You blinked up at Gaster owlishly. For a moment, you felt lost. What were you doing, again?

You turned around. But... You didn't do that. Your feet moved without you telling them to, forcing you to turn your back on Gaster and face Sans instead. Your partner stood, crouched... Ready to act, but hesitating. His breathing was labored. Sweat rolled down his cheeks and dripped from his chin. He was about ready to drop.

Even knowing this, your body didn't have the emotional reaction that you thought it should. Your heart didn't ache for him, and your hand didn't reach out to offer him aid. Instead, your back straightened, and the arm around your chest dropped to your side. The position caused additional pain in your chest, but you didn't even flinch. Your face remained lax... Expressionless. 

"Come now, Sans. I refuse to fight you... There is no need for it. Leave now, of your own volition, or I will be forced to throw you out again."

As Gaster spoke, you stepped to the side. You saw your perspective shift, felt your feet move, but had no control over doing it. You couldn't even move your mouth to ask what was happening... Could barely even drudge up the mental capacity to think the question to yourself. Luckily, Sans asked it for you.

"What... did you do... to them?" He gasped out the question between panting breaths. Gaster moved with you, keeping your body between himself and Sans. A human shield. 

"I have a way with dead things, if I do say so myself," he answered cryptically. You felt a hand slide into your hair, petting your head. Mentally, you had it together enough to quake with a mixture of fear and revulsion. But, physically, you didn't so much as shiver. "They are nothing more than a glorified corpse, after all."

Your eyes were unfocused; you could only see Sans as a blurry figure in your periphery. Still, you recognized the look on his face as one of abject horror. 

"You...!" Sans' eye lit up bright blue. But not fast enough. Before Sans could do anything, he was lifted off of his feet. The gray door swung open, revealing nothing but pitch blackness on the other side. With a flick of his hand, Gaster flung Sans out of the void unceremoniously. It was so quick that, when your body blinked without your say-so, you completely missed it. All you knew was that, when the door slammed shut and disappeared out of existence once more, Sans was no longer with you.

You were alone. With Gaster. In the void.

"Well, now," the necromancer broke the sudden silence, his hand falling out of your hair as he stepped around to face you head-on. He bent down, putting his skull at eye-level with you. You were forced to stare into his cold, calculating eyes, physically unable to tear your own away. "Let's not waste any time, shall we?"

\---

End of KINDNESS


	31. Gaster Did a Bad, Bad Thing

PART 4 - PERSEVERANCE

\---

Docile, you walked yourself a short ways down the hallway, stepping on shards of splintered bones and crushing them under your uncaring heel. The previously immaculate, white floor was now marred by sooty scorch marks from Sans' blasters. You barely even looked at them as you marched on unaided, yet against your own will.

Gaster followed behind you. You couldn't see him, and he made no sound, but you knew he was there. As you walked up to one of the cells, you knew it was he who allowed the forcefield to fall, granting you entrance. Your eyes stared at the far wall, but you saw out of the corner of your eye that there was already a body inside. You heard the hum of energy as the bars sprang back to life behind you.

Suddenly, you were set free. You heaved a huge breath of air and fell to your knees as soon as his presence fled your body. Your heart rate skyrocketed while your muddled mind was flooded with clarity. You rolled into a sitting position and pressed your back against the wall, your mouth agape and eyes wide with fear.

"Since the two of you need no introduction, I am sure you would not mind sharing a living space," Gaster said humorlessly. Your view of him was obscured by the light of the glowing green bars, but you could still see his lopsided smile behind them as he continued, "Now sit tight for a moment. I have preparations to make."

With that, he walked away from your prison, leaving your line of sight. Your breath continued to come in shaky gasps. It was impossible not to look, but you dreaded what you would see when you turned your gaze to the figure resting against the wall on your right. Just like the children in the other cell, the body's face was turned away from the hallway. 

Which meant that Hernandez's cold, dead eyes were staring directly at you.

You screamed. You scrambled as far away from the body as you could in the enclosed space. This put you huddled in the corner, whimpering to yourself like a pathetic, trapped animal. 

This was far too much. It was a nightmare... It _had_ to be a dream! But the agonizing throb in your chest said otherwise. Curled into a ball, you were putting a lot of pressure on your ribs. The pain pills you had taken what felt like a lifetime ago had worn off, or else weren't strong enough to counteract whatever further damage Gaster had done. No matter the unnecessary pain you were causing yourself, though, you couldn't move. You were frozen, every last one of your muscles tight with fear. 

"SANS!" you cried out, despite knowing that he was gone. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP! SANS!!!" 

You screamed like that until your voice went hoarse. Your pleas echoed down the hallway full of corpses. You never received a response. Gaster didn't even come back to scold you for being too loud. There was just... no one. 

Ragged, panicked cries tore from your throat. You shut your eyes tight and clutched your own hair in your fists, willing this all to fade away into obscurity. If this was a dream, it was time for it to end.

"Wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup..." you whispered frantically to yourself as you rocked on the floor. However, when you opened your eyes, you were still in the void.

You couldn't keep up that level of hysteria indefinitely. Eventually, you had to either calm down or pass out. You very nearly did the latter but, just as your vision started to gray out on the edges, you pulled yourself together. Marginally. You forced yourself to take deeper breaths, despite the sting they caused in your sternum. You rubbed your own arms in a self-soothing manner, all while staring blankly at your feet.

After doing this for some time, you finally uncurled yourself from the corner. You let your legs fall in front of you, which relieved some of the pressure on your chest. You tried to get to your feet, but you just couldn't. You didn't know if it was because you'd been standing for too long without assistance from your cane, or if your knees were shaking too much to support your weight, but you kept falling over with every attempt to leverage yourself up. After a few failures, you were forced to stop, as the falls were too jarring to your fractured bone.

Instead, you just sat there, sending fearful glances in the direction of Hernandez's body on occasion. He looked weirdly normal... Like he had fallen asleep with his bloodshot eyes wide open. From what you could see, the bodies in the cells across from yours looked just as pristine. Every single one of them had their faces turned away from the hallway, but you could tell that none of them looked decayed. How was that possible, when some of them had to have been several months old...?

You could only look at the guard's body for brief moments, stealing little glances every minute or so. One time, you noticed something a bit odd lying right next to the body, just brushing up against his fingers. A nondescript, brown ball. Perhaps a tennis ball that was missing its fuzzy, yellow exterior.

You didn't have time to wonder about that before you heard the sound of a door opening and closing. You flinched and curled up again, covering your mouth with your hand to quiet your breathing. Not that it mattered; Gaster knew exactly where you were. He loomed over you on the other side of the bars. For a moment, he simply stared at you. You didn't know what he was doing. A frown creased his face.

"Come," he ordered, but you were in no position to obey him even if you wanted to. Blood pounded in your ears as you remained seated, unmoving. 

When he was unable to will you into obedience, Gaster dropped the forcefield. He slithered into your cell, gliding over the floor. You couldn't see much point in trying to slip past him; even if you got out of the cell, where would you go from there? So you just sat there, helpless, as he reached down and touched your forehead again. 

All self-control was sapped from you. Your body got to its feet, heedless of the pain in your screaming muscles and the spikes of agony in your chest. Gaster, however, tilted his head and frowned down at you. You couldn't stop him from pressing his hand against your chest, though you wanted to swat it away. There was a brief flash of warmth and, suddenly, the pain was gone. You felt the distinctly strange sensation of bones shifting around inside of you as they righted themselves and fused back together. Your expression remained neutral but, inside, you were both surprised and disturbed.

"Let no one ever say that I was needlessly cruel." He turned around and walked back into the hallway. You followed behind him. The forcefield turned back on in your wake. "I only do what I must, while preserving any small kindness I can. To free my species, to free myself... And isn't it only fair that some humans be sacrificed along the way? Your kind slaughtered so many of us, after all." He looked back at you as you trailed behind mindlessly. The two of you walked toward the hazy end of the hallway, though it was becoming clearer the nearer you got.

"I witnessed the breadth of human cruelty in the war. Why should I be damned, while your people go free, unpunished? This is justice." You couldn't speak... Could only listen to his ramblings passively. 

_Can you hear me?_ you silently probed the monster in your head, struggling to even put together a coherent string of thoughts in your addled state. If he could read your mind, though, he gave no indication of it.

"Look no further than yourself. You murdered my people - my son included - indiscriminately, and for no gain other than your own amusement. Everyone else may have forgotten. Even Sans, for he is blinded by your hold over his soul. Perhaps, once you are gone, Sans will be free. He may even thank me, once I return to the surface... If he has any sense left, he will."

You came to a door at the end of the hallway. The last of the blurry fog cleared as Gaster put his hand on the handle. You felt a very acute sense of dread, even before the door swung open. You could've sworn you remembered this from somewhere...

You most definitely remembered the room beyond the door. You'd seen it in your dreams twice before, though never in person. The room was huge; much wider and taller than it needed to be. It was foggy and dark, though the few items in it stood out as clearly as if lit by a nonexistent spotlight. In the center of the room was a table. It was shaped like a cross, with four leather buckles attached to its points. It was obvious to you that its purpose was to restrain human-shaped people. On top of the table sat some kind of garment, folded up neatly. Off to the side of the room stood a long workbench, with stacks of paper piled neatly on top. You didn't get a good look at it, because your eyes were fixated ahead.

The back wall of the room was completely covered by an immense, spotless mirror. Zombie-like, you were made to walk up to it while Gaster veered off to approach the workbench. It was immediately apparent that the mirror didn't reflect reality... Not quite. In his reflection, Gaster didn't look like a skeleton, but a huge, indistinct mass of black smoke. Not even his skull was visible. Meanwhile, you didn't look right, either. Just like in your first dream of this place, your eyes were pitch black. From your eyes and mouth poured endless plumes of smoke, similar to the stuff Gaster's reflection was made of. The heavy, gaseous substance fell to the floor, where it engulfed your feet before dissipating into nothing as it escaped your immediate vicinity.

You wanted to turn tail and run from your twisted likeness, but you weren't permitted to. Instead, you walked closer, only pausing in your approach to swerve around the cross-shaped, metal table. On your way past it, your left hand reached out to curl around the fabric on the table. The cloth unfolded as you dragged it with you. You saw through the mirror's reflection that it was a hospital gown.

"Perhaps I should explain myself," Gaster mused from where he stood, hunched over the workbench. In your peripheral vision, you could just see him scribbling something down with a fountain pen. "After all, you are the only human I have captured who has any hope of understanding my motivations. To think that humans have forgotten not only the existence of magic, but of their own souls... Your kind truly has fallen into disgrace. It is a shame that you have lost all integrity. You were once so powerful and fearsome." 

He paused in his writing. While he had his back turned, you began to strip out of your clothes mechanically. Inside, you screamed at yourself to stop. You beat against the walls of your mind - the first real attack you managed to muster. But what had worked against Sans when you were Orion didn't even pique Gaster's interest now. Clearly, this necromantic control was a different beast altogether. You couldn't stop yourself from changing into the hospital garb, turning around, and climbing onto the table.

"Though maybe a little mundanity would do your species good. Admittedly, it does make my job easier." You laid on your back with your arms spread-eagled. Gaster kept you waiting for a minute before setting his pen down and slinking over to you. He avoided looking you in the eyes as he methodically buckled the straps, securing you to the table. When that was done, he released his control over you.

"What are... What are you going... going to do?" you stammered through your gasping breaths. You felt like you had to get the question out immediately, because you didn't know how much time you had left to ask. Your limbs shook fearfully. Enough to rattle the straps around them. You looked to your left and saw that the black eyes of your reflection had cleared back to normal. It was just you, laid bare under a dark mass of churning, angry smoke.

"I am getting to that. Have patience." Gaster stood at shoulder-level and reached out his hand, his palm hovering over your chest. He drew it upwards slowly. As he did, a familiar clicking sound filled the void. Your soul lifted from your body, the white outer covering racing around the purple with frantic urgency. 

"Ah, very interesting," Gaster appraised your soul, bending down to inspect it more closely. "It is as I told you; you should not have left such a delicate process in the hands of your incompetent friends. Although, the incomplete soul separation may yield... intriguing results."

"What... What do you mean?" You spoke through clenched teeth. Above you, Gaster rolled up his sleeves. You didn't like that much.

"I am going to extract the essence - the perseverance, if you will - from your soul, as I have done to all of the other humans here. It is the only way I can garner the power to leave this hellish place. I could simply absorb the souls, but there would be no way to guarantee I would still be in control of myself after that. We would all be sharing a single body, and I am sure you of all people can appreciate how unpleasant that would be. This way is more delicate, but humane." His hand lowered a little to curve around your soul. He was almost touching it, but not quite. Your heart pounded.

"Unfortunately, this does mean that you will die, just like the others. Regrettable, but it is a necessary sacrifice. I am, as you might say, _determined_ to see this through."

As soon as you heard the word "die," you started to struggle in earnest. Your soul sucked back toward your chest, though Gaster seemed to catch it with his magic and kept it from re-entering your body. You bucked and thrashed on the table, doing everything you could to try and loosen the restraints around you. Gaster put his hand next to your head on the table and leaned in closer, watching you struggle fruitlessly. In a flash of anger, you reeled back and spat in his face.

He jerked away from you, surprised, then slowly wiped the spit from his skull with his sleeve. Your chest heaved from exertion. He chuckled.

"How primitive... But we will soon see how well your bravery serves you. Brace yourself."

All at once, Gaster lunged forward and scooped your soul into his hand. You could've never been ready for it. The visions that followed were intimately invasive. Your whole body spasmed as your life _literally_ flashed before your eyes. From a young child mostly confined to a hospital bed, to a pre-teen struggling to fit in at school. From an adolescent who buried themself in video games just to get by, to a young adult trying to strike out on their own. You watched yourself go to college, play Undertale, lose your soul, fall down a hole, get it back, and give it to Sans. You relived the entirety of the beautiful, terrible life that was Orion's. Every time you hung out with your friends. Every time you hugged Frisk. Every intimate moment with the man you loved more than anything in this world. It was all laid bare.

You didn't realize you were crying until it was over. You couldn't even begin to guess how long it had taken, but you were a sobbing, shaking wreck by the time your memories had caught up with the present. Gaster's grip tightened around your soul. You felt that twitch of his fingers before you saw it. He didn't hold you like Sans did... Reverently, like you were divine and he wasn't deserving. No... Gaster held your soul hostage. 

"Please..." you croaked, tears streaming down your face and dripping onto the table. There were so many that they had started soaking into the back of the hospital gown. "Please let go..."

It was unbearable. He was all around you. Seeping into your very essence. Sick. Dirty. He killed everything he touched, and he was going to kill you, too.

For the first time since you stood with Sans in front of the barrier, you knew with certainty that you were about to die. 

"Such a short life, but a meaningful one. If you take any solace in that sort of thing," Gaster said while ignoring your groveling. He looked ruffled. He was leaning on the table again, his bones rattling gratingly under his jacket. He stood up straight, taking your soul up with him. He wiped the sweat off of his brow with his free hand, then locked eyes with you and said, "Farewell, my dear."

If you'd thought his mere touch was the worst thing you'd ever experienced, it was nothing compared to what came next. Horrified, you watched through teary eyes as he raised your soul and pressed it against his lips. You had half a second to wonder what the _fuck_ he was doing before he squeezed. And the pain hit. 

It was like... like nothing you'd ever felt before. And you knew pain. You did pain pretty well, you thought. You couldn't do this. It felt like he was sawing off a limb. Or making soup out of your inner organs. Or maybe flaying you alive, slowly peeling back the skin, one strip at a time, and stealing it for himself. But worse... worse... _worse_. Ripping, tearing, taking. You felt like you'd been dead for weeks, but were somehow still awake to feel the rotting. You were slowly being consumed, and you experienced every. Last. Second of it. The mercy of unconsciousness never came. You couldn't do this. You screamed and screamed and screamed and-

And when it was done? You were nothing. You felt nothing. You didn't even realize the moment when it was over, because the aching maw of emptiness felt just as painful as the process itself. You were a shell. Nothing.

"Hmm... Interesting, just as I thought." If it had been anyone else talking, you wouldn't have heard. But it was _him_. You couldn't not listen, no matter how dead you felt. "I will have to investigate this further."

Something slithered into your body, under your skin. It was warm, but somehow cold at the same time. It sunk into you, seeped into your blood. It felt like a disease wrapped in a lullaby. Terrible and wonderful... 

Finally... God, _finally_ you slipped into insentience, letting blissful unconsciousness whisk you away to an infinite blackness.


	32. Rigor Mortis

This time, Sans hit the ground before he hit the wall. Gaster didn't throw him as hard as he'd thrown Orion. His momentum didn't carry him far enough to crack his skull open against the damp, cave wall. This was fortunate, since Sans knew he couldn't take the kinds of hits Orion could. If he'd suffered the same fate again, he would've surely died from it this time around.

He was starting to wonder if he would've preferred that.

Even now, less than an hour after being forcibly separated from you, he couldn't quite remember exactly what he'd done immediately after. He knew it involved a lot of clawing and banging his fists on the where the door used to be. He'd been blind with rage and desperation. His screams had quickly attracted concerned samaritans, who'd tried to force him away from the bare wall to get help.

Bad idea.

Now, though, he wasn't putting up a fight. He was just numb. He didn't really recall how he got here or who managed to convince him to move, but he was at Toriel's house. The Queen herself had been gone for a while, healing the people Sans had attacked. She was back now, and kneeling in front of him.

"Sans... Dear, you must tell us what happened. Can you hear me?" 

He blinked slowly. He was sitting on one of Toriel's kitchen chairs, facing a whole house full of people. Right now, he didn't care about any of them. Not even his brother, which was a first. He only wanted you...

It felt like there was a blockade in his mind. You were gone, in danger, but he wasn't out there fighting for you. It didn't compute. Problem was, Sans couldn't think of any way he could get to you. The door was gone, despite all of the values in the code of the game being conducive to its appearance. There were no shortcuts where you were, so that was out. And Sans still didn't know how Gaster managed to get the two of you there, in the first place. Something to do with the barn, but he hadn't gone into enough detail for Sans to be able to replicate it. 

Getting back to the void was all that had consumed his mind since he was thrown out. But, without any avenues of return, he was left stuck in a sort of logic loop. _Need to get to you, can't get to you, need to get to you, can't get to you, need to get-_

"What's going on?" Charlie's voice rose above the static in Sans' mind. He entered the house after Asgore, who could barely manage to squeeze into Toriel's crowded living room.

"The Ambassador is missing, and Sans has been catatonic since we found him," The King explained succinctly, "Tori says she saw you speaking to the two of them early this morning. You were the last person to have seen them." Sans hadn't shifted his gaze from staring at the floor since he got there, and he wasn't about to now. So he didn't see Charlie's expression, but the guard sounded frantic when he replied,

"What?! Shit, they're missing now, too? I knew something was going on..." 

"What do you know?" Undyne barked aggressively, "Spit it out, punk!"

"Woah, hey, calm down. I don't know much, I just... I just noticed that Hernandez didn't come into work when he was supposed to. I thought maybe somethin' happened to him, so I asked those two to go check out his tower and see if there was anything suspicious. That was all, I swear."

"Leo's dead."

For the first time since being coaxed away from Waterfall, Sans spoke. He didn't even realize he'd said it until after the words left his mouth. Once they did, though, there was no taking them back. Silence reigned. It seemed impossible for so many people to be so still. Charlie was the first to speak.

"What did you say?" He sounded heartbroken, but Sans couldn't muster up any pity for the guy. He was too busy drowning in his own sorrow.

"Hey!" Charlie snapped as he marched up to Sans and shoved him in the shoulder. "What did you say?!" It took a lot, but Sans dragged his eyes up to look at Charlie.

"I said... Leo's dead. Hernandez. He's dead." Charlie's lips parted in shock. His eyes scanned Sans' face, as though trying to discern if he was lying.

"How... You... How do you know that? What happened?" Sans broke eye contact. He shook his head, then brought his hands up to cradle his own skull. He didn't wanna think about it, least of all _talk_ about it. The cruelest punishment was having to tell everyone how he failed. How he couldn't protect you the one time... the _one_ time you needed him. He wouldn't. Couldn't. 

Of course, he would've spilled his guts in a heartbeat if he thought it would help you. But no one here could do anything about it, either. Even if there was a way into the void, no one could beat Gaster. If any of his friends went in there, they'd be turned to dust. If any humans went in there, they'd be sacrificed to whatever fucking _plan_ Gaster had been rambling about. There was just no point in telling anyone. No point in doing anything.

"Brother!" Papyrus snapped, "Stop this silent treatment right now! We must know what happened so we can save-"

"You can't save 'em. No one can," Sans growled, his eyes squeezed shut as he kept his head buried in his hands. "It's over." His voice cracked, and Sans knew he was done. That was all the explaining he could manage. He could barely bring himself to pay attention to what was going on around him, let alone form words with his mouth.

"Stop it!" Papyrus' voice was shrill. He took Sans by the shoulders and shook him, but this was about as effective as trying to light a fire in the rain. "You cannot give up already! You have not even tried!"

"Papyrus, let's let him be for now, okay?" Toriel finally stepped in to be the voice of reason. Papyrus' hands fell off of Sans' shoulders limply. "Perhaps he will feel up to talking later."

"Fuck later," Charlie hissed, "We gotta do something _now_."

"Yes, I agree..." Asgore's deep voice rumbled through the room. "Charlie, would you be able to inform Agent Reives of this emergency? I do not wish to sound accusatory, but I believe this is a human matter. Agent Reives will understand what I mean."

"...Right. I will."

"In the interest of being thorough, Undyne, would you please organize a search of the Underground? Make sure this information is shared only with your most trusted guards... I think it would be unwise for word to get out about this."

"On it. Papyrus, you game?"

"OF COURSE!!!"

Just like that, almost everyone left the house. Sans heard the shuffling of several pairs of feet before the door opened and closed, leaving only the King and Queen behind. They were both quiet for a long moment before Asgore started up again,

"I will make sure Frisk is taken care of."

"Oh no," Toriel gasped, "I hadn't even thought... What if..." Whatever hypothetical situation she had thought up, she didn't finish voicing the thought. Sans was grateful. He thought he knew what direction she was going in, and he _could not_ face that. Still, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about it, even though it hadn't been said aloud.

What if you were dead?

In no time at all, Sans was back to another circular train of thought. If you were dead, he would know. He'd feel it somehow. But would he? Gaster was a murderer. He killed people. Who was to say he hadn't done it already? But if you were dead, he would know...

His fingers tightened on the back of his skull. His breath hitched. His palms were sweaty. _Need to get to you. Can't get to you. Can't. Can't. Can't. Can't._

"Sans." A furry hand was on his upper back, rubbing little circles into his spine. "Everyone else is gone now. It is just you and I."

Her words barely reached him. Sans ran circles in his own mind, too stunned by the truth of the situation to comprehend it. 

"Do you think you can tell me what happened now?"

He shook his head vigorously. He took one of his hands off of his head to clutch his chest, which had begun to ache. 

"Was it a human who did it?"

"I can't tell you anything," Sans finally snapped, now angry at Toriel's constant probing. He looked up at her with black, empty eyes. "Don't you think if there was anything... _anything_ that could be done, I'd be doin' it? I _love_ them."

"I know." Toriel retracted her hand, instead placing it on her knee as she kneeled in front of Sans. "But you are not the only one. We all want to bring them back home, but you must let us help you." Sans rubbed his chest, trying in vain to relieve the strange throbbing sensation. 

"Anything I tell you will only put you in danger. You can't _do_ anything, anyway. You can't... You can't..." 

He felt a change in the air a moment before it hit. It felt like someone had slashed him with a knife. He yelled wordlessly and doubled over from the sudden pain. Frantically, he patted himself down, then checked his hands for blood. There wasn't any - he was unharmed. The moment was over as quick as it had begun.

"Are you okay?" Toriel asked sharply, her hand coming back up to rest on his spine. "Sans?"

"...Something happened," he whispered to himself, ignoring Toriel as he continued to stare wide-eyed at thin air. "I have to go."

"Sans, don't-!" 

Too late. Within seconds, Sans was gone through a shortcut. Then another one. It only took two before he arrived where he should've gone immediately... The barn. He came out of the last shortcut a few feet in the air, which meant that he landed on the ground with a jarring _thud._

Sans never usually raised his voice. But if it was possible for Gaster to sense his presence here, then he wanted him to hear every word.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" he yelled, fists clenched at his side. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM?!"

He knew _something_ had to have happened. Something big. Sans had never felt random, second-hand pain like that from you before. Not when you were sick and on death's door, not when you crashed your car... Never. But there was no doubt in his mind that the painful feeling in his chest had to have been you, reaching out to him somehow. 

When he received no response, he began to pace around in a circle. 

"LET ME IN!" he demanded. But the shortcuts around him remained frustratingly still. They didn't open and close like before. 

In a desperate, last-ditch effort, Sans gathered all of the magic he could muster in his bones. A shock wave of energy radiated out from his left eye, blasting all of the shortcuts in the barn wide open. A few of the nearest ones flickered open and closed a couple times, but Sans just didn't have the juice to make them all pulse continuously. One by one, they eased closed, returning to innocent, jagged seams in the air once more. 

Sans wheezed and fell to his hands and knees, his bones rattling uncontrollably. With the fight earlier, and now this... He'd done everything he could. Expended every last ounce of willpower left burning in his soul. He seriously doubted he could even open a single shortcut to go home, at this point. Not that he wanted to. 

He didn't know how he didn't see it earlier but, when he looked up from the floor, Sans found himself staring at your discarded cane. Even after only an hour or so, a fine layer of dust had already settled over it. He lunged for it, his fingers wrapping around its shaft, clutching it like it was a rope and he was a drowning man. He pulled it onto his lap and just stared at it for a minute. When he spoke again, he couldn't find it in him to scream the words anymore.

"Please... I'll do anything. Just let me see them again."

But if Gaster heard his plea, he sent no sign of it. Sans was alone... And alone, he would remain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's tragic because, if Sans had all of the information Reed currently has, he'd be able to get back to the void on his own easily.
> 
> ...Have fun pondering that one ;)


	33. Counting Bodies Like Sheep

You didn't think it was possible, but... You weren't dead.

You woke up on the floor of your cell, your back leaning against the wall across from Hernandez. Your face was turned away from the light of the forcefield until you lifted your head and blinked groggily. Instinctively, you tried to raise your hand to your chest, but you couldn't do even that. Your fingers only twitched while your head lolled to face the opposite side, your neck cracking in painful protest.

Unseeingly, your eyes stared out into the hallway. Everything was deathly quiet, save for your own heartbeat and slow, rattling breaths. They filled the silent void; a single spark of life among a crypt stacked full of the dead. Impossible, but undeniable. 

What was particularly unbelievable was the fact that you weren't in any pain. Your back was sore, probably from being hunched over for God knows how long. But otherwise, you just felt cold. Perhaps that was because you were dressed in nothing but a thin hospital gown. But something told you that the icy chill was more than skin deep.

You took in a deep lungful of air before attempting to straighten your spine. Instead, your efforts simply caused you to list to the side. You tried to catch yourself, but your movements were too sluggish to prevent your slow slide downward. You ended up falling into a slightly curled position, which was no more comfortable than your previous situation. Lacking the energy to do anything more about it, you just accepted your fate and laid still on the floor.

"Still alive, I see." A spasm rocked your body as soon as the sound of his voice hit your ears. Every muscle clenched indiscriminately, which resulted in the sort of violent twitch one might witness in soon-to-be-dead roadkill. "Fascinating."

The sound of the humming forcefield dropping away gave you strength like nothing else could. You used your hands to push yourself backward, scrambling away from the cell's entrance until you were back in your panic corner. Pathetically, you clawed at the wall behind you, but there was nowhere else to go. 

Gaster approached you with an impassive expression. He looked a little more substantial than before... Some of the black fog had cleared away from his legs, though his feet were still nonexistent. Your chest heaved with hitched, stuttering breaths as he glided toward you, crouching down in front of you while you were backed as far as you could be in the corner.

Heedless of your fearful whimpers, he placed a hand on your chest and withdrew your soul from your body. You felt raw and exposed, and hated that the feeling was so familiar. But what kept you from flailing and screaming and doing _anything_ to keep him from touching you again was the shocking state of your soul.

It wasn't yours anymore. It just wasn't. All of the color had drained from it; not a trace of purple remained. An inky, sickening blackness was in its place. Like thick tar, the intruder roiled sluggishly, churning at the center of the heart like a black storm. A bright, pure white remained to coat the outer edge. Now, though, the frantic movements of Sans' portion of the soul seemed not to be protecting what was at the center, but desperately vying to get away from it. 

"Very interesting. It seems the incomplete soul separation has preserved your life. I imagine the balance must be quite delicate." Slowly, Gaster released the soul and let it float back into your body. You shuddered when it sank into your chest, providing you with mixed feelings of disgust and warmth. 

"I seriously doubt I can get anymore practical use out of it," Gaster commented as he stood back up to his full height. You couldn't bear to look at him, instead fixing your gaze on the floor. "But such a phenomenon is unprecedented. Far too rare to destroy... I will study it later, after you have had some time to recuperate." 

He might as well have been talking to himself, because you gave no indication that you had absorbed any of what he said. You stared wide-eyed at the floor until he left, and long after that. 

***

Time passed. Or so you assumed. It was hard to tell here, where there was no cycle of days to keep track of. Much to your surprise, you continued to improve as time went on. You almost wished you hadn't. It was easier when you were numb and drowsy. The more mental clarity you gained, the more you came to comprehend the true horror of your situation.

Gaster never came back to check on you. He remained locked in the mirror room. You could only imagine what he was doing in there. Maybe working on luring another victim into the void. Would he do that while you were still here? You didn't know if you could handle hearing someone else's screams echoing down the hallway, knowing exactly what they were going through...

But at least no one else would have to endure the aftermath, as you did. They wouldn't have to sit in a cell with nothing to do but stare at the corpse of their dead friend. 

The more you came to your senses, the more pressing the problem became. It seemed ridiculous that something as mundane as boredom would be such an issue after everything that had happened. But it was so bad that, after some time, you started to wish Gaster would come back and hurt you some more. Just to have _anything_ to do. 

When the boredom first started to take hold, you struggled with yourself for a long time over what to do with the ball that laid next to Hernandez. You got to your feet and paced along the short wall of the cell, wringing your hands together while you agonized over the dumb thing. You wanted the ball, but you didn't want to go near Hernandez. As far as you were concerned, there was an electric fence between your side of the room and his. Every cell in your body screamed at you not to go near his remains. Not only was it a dead body, which you already had what you thought was a perfectly reasonable aversion to, but there was something unnatural about it. You didn't like it.

Eventually, though, the mind-numbing tedium forced your hand. You crawled across the invisible line that divided your side of the cell from his, your heart racing in your chest as you did so. Slowly, you stretched out a hand toward the body. Your eyes darted between Hernandez's face and his hand but, of course, there was no reaction. The tips of your fingers shook as they brushed up against the ball. Agonizing slowly, you rolled it away from the corpse and back over into your side of the room.

Triumphant, you clutched your prize in your hand. Your initial guess that it had once been a tennis ball before the yellow covering was peeled off seemed accurate; it was supple and a little rubbery in your hand. Experimentally, you bounced it on the ground. But the action sent a jolt of fear down your spine. You caught the ball as it came back up at you, but what if you hadn't? What if you nudged it wrong and accidentally sent it rolling under the horizontal bars of your cell? Then you'd be back to having nothing to do.

You understood you were being absurd. You knew that. But it didn't change the fact that you found yourself unable to play with the ball you'd stressed yourself out over for so long. All you could do was roll it on the floor slowly from hand to hand, too afraid to do anything else with it lest you lose it somehow. You were sadder _with_ it than you had been without it.

When you weren't doing that, you slept. You slept a lot, mostly because there was nothing else to do. But even unconsciousness provided no relief from your waking nightmare. Your dreams were a confused mess of fear and pain. They never made sense and were often terrifyingly gruesome. Rotting dead things, bloodsoaked clothing, and grotesquely distorted limbs were common motifs. Curiously, you often heard a voice in your dreams that seemed out of place with the other content. _"Hello? Where are you?"_ it would ask, _"Are you there? Hello?"_ Something always seemed to strangle you or cover your mouth before you could answer.

At some point, you found yourself lying on your back, the tennis ball lying safely in the panic corner. You had your eyes closed, but you weren't sleeping. You were thinking about Sans. You did that a lot, too. You felt like he was all you could care about anymore. Your love for Sans and your fear of Gaster were all that was left of you.

Where was he? What was he doing now? Was he trying to save you? You wanted him to... You wanted him to so badly. But, realistically, you knew he couldn't. If he could get to the void, he would've come for you by now. He was locked out as surely as you were locked in. 

You closed your eyes and imagined that Sans was lying next to you. You were on a grassy knoll, staring up at the stars. Not the fake ones in Waterfall... The real stars. They twinkled down at you in your imagination. Orion, in particular, burned bright. You reached up for it, tracing the line of its belt with your finger.

Sans laughed at you affectionately. You turned to look at him and... He was perfect. Your memory of him was flawless, down to the tiniest imperfections. Little nicks and scratches on his skull from bumping his head on things or getting into minor scuffles as a kid. Nigh imperceptible, but you spent too much time studying him not to know them by heart. His bones looked pale in the moonlight, which cast soft shadows over his face. The white lights in his eyes were bright and wide.

"Sans..." you whispered, then dropped your hand to reach out to him instead.

Before you could touch him, his visage disappeared.

_"No!"_

As soon as Sans was gone, the stars winked out, too. The sky turned pitch black, plunging you into darkness and despair. You turned onto your side and curled into a ball. Indistinct whispers surrounded you on all sides, brushing over your skin possessively. They said you were all alone now. They said you were going to die here.

Your eyes slammed shut. Your hands squeezed into fists. That couldn't be true... It couldn't end like this. What was the last thing you said to Sans? You couldn't even recall. You couldn't leave him... Not now, or ever. It wasn't meant to be this way.

Where was Sans? He had to be somewhere. You had to find him.

You felt something building inside. It started as a tingle in the back of your brain and grew until your whole body was buzzing. The thrum of life in your veins pushed the whispers back. They recoiled, and you felt... powerful. The whispers didn't like that.

_"You're nothing."_

_"There's no escape."_

_"Give up."_

Their attempts to bring you crashing down only pushed you higher. The tingling energy was right at your fingertips. 

_"You'll never see him again."_

"NO!"

You shot up. Your eyes flew open. There was a _CRACK!_ like lightning, and something on the right side of your face burned. 

It was all over in an instant, though it took much longer for you to comprehend what happened. You were back in your cell, as usual. You must've fallen asleep while daydreaming. Now, you were sitting upright, your chest heaving. You felt exhausted, as if you'd physically exerted yourself. But that wasn't possible, given that there was nothing in your cell for you _to_ exert yourself on.

That was far from the strangest thing you noticed, though. While everything inside of the cell looked normal, outside in the hallway was...

You rubbed your eyes vigorously. Surely, you had to be seeing things. It was impossible. But, when you looked again, it was still there.

An open shortcut.

You shuffled toward it on your knees, your mouth agape. You got as close as you could to the bars of the cell without touching them. You hadn't seen a shortcut since being in Orion's body. And, yes, you could _see_ it. And it was _here_ , in the void...

The spherical nature of the portal distorted the image of the world beyond, but you still recognized it immediately. It was the interior of the barn. You could see the sliding door, which was wide open. It was nighttime outside. And right in the center, backlit by the stars, stood-

"SANS!" you screamed, then clamped a hand over your mouth. Nervously, you peeked down the hallway. You didn't have the right angle to see the door at the end but, after a few, tense heartbeats, you figured you were in the clear. You shouted so often in your sleep that, even if Gaster had heard you, he probably thought it was nothing.

You looked back at the shortcut, staring at it like it was your salvation. Sans' back was to you... He was too far away and the shortcut was too small for you to be able to tell, but it seemed like he was looking at the stars. If only he would look over his shoulder, he would see you through the portal. You had to get his attention somehow.

Obviously, sound didn't carry through the shortcuts. If it did, Sans would've come running when you called his name. Desperately, you searched your cell for anything that would help you. You found it almost immediately. The ball. 

You scrambled to pick it up off of the floor. You stood up and bounced it in your hand once, testing its weight. You had to get this just right. The shortcut was small, and you had to throw the ball hard if you wanted it to reach Sans all the way at the far end of the barn. This was your only chance. 

You inhaled once sharply before reeling back and chucking the ball with all of your strength. It was almost perfect; it felt good leaving your hand. Your aim was true. But when it got to the forcefield guarding your cell, it hit one of the bars of green energy. With a _shhhhing!_ the ball was split cleanly in half. The two halves careened down the hallway, both veering to completely miss the shortcut on either side. One half bounced off of the wall and teetered to a stop a little ways down the hallway, while the other disappeared into the darkness of the cell across from yours. 

Dismayed, you fell to your knees. You wanted to scream again, but just managed to hold yourself back. The small window into the barn continued to mock you on the other side of the green light. You had to think... Come up with a new plan before the miracle shortcut closed on you.

While staring at the tiny reflection of Sans' back, you made up your mind. You couldn't get Sans' attention. Maybe eventually he'd turn around on his own, but you couldn't take that risk. You had to get through the portal, yourself. 

You had to slip under the bars of your cell.

You were already on your knees, so it didn't take much to drop down to your belly and examine the space underneath the last green energy beam. It would be tight, you had to admit. But you could do it. You had to. Getting to that shortcut was the most important thing... You just had to hope you'd fit.

Slowly, you crept forward, heart pounding. You stuck your arms under the bar first. You turned your head to the side, both so that you could watch the door at the end of the hallway, and to maximize the amount of free space you had. Using your hands to claw yourself forward and your feet to push, you slid underneath the bar at a snail's pace. The hum of threatening energy in your right ear set your nerves on edge. You couldn't help but to think of what had happened to that ball when it hit the forcefield. Thankfully, though, you managed to get your head through without incident. The scariest part was over.

...Or so you thought. Bolstered by that achievement, you yanked yourself forward another foot or so. But suddenly, a wretched, burning pain hit your shoulders. You couldn't help yourself - you screamed. However, the torture only lasted an instant. When you stopped moving, it stopped hurting. 

You took a break to catch your breath. Problem was that, every time you inhaled, the burning magic cut a little deeper into your shoulder blade. You made a conscious effort to take short, shallow breaths. But still, the laser would cut into new flesh every now and then, eliciting painful hisses and yelps from you. 

You pressed your face into the floor and moaned. You couldn't turn around and look, but you knew you were destroying your back. The smell of burning flesh was undeniable. For a moment, you wondered if you should return to your cell and try to find a different way. But, looking up at the shortcut again, seeing Sans still standing there... You knew you had to keep going. There was just no other option.

Rather than trying to use your arms, you curled your legs and pushed off forcefully with your feet. You bit your lip to muffle the involuntary scream you knew you'd make. Your vision went white for a moment, but it was over quickly. The nerves that were causing the pain were fried almost immediately, so your suffering wasn't proportional to the damage you were doing to yourself. Still, by the time your shoulders were through, your mouth was full of blood from biting yourself too hard.

Once you were halfway out of the cell, you were basically free. The only trouble was that you had a bit of a hard time moving your arms. It wasn't really that they were painful, just that they wouldn't move in certain directions. You had to pull them up to your chest and use your elbows to wiggle the rest of the way out. You were so close... If you reached out, you could stick your hand through the shortcut. You just had to slide your feet out...

Suddenly, something tight clasped onto your ankle. 

You gasped, rolled onto your back, and saw a truly horrifying sight. It was _Hernandez_. He had fallen onto his side with one, cold hand extended to clench around your leg. His dead, unseeing eyes stared at you from inside of the cell.

A door opened. Blood pounded in your ears.

"Really?" Gaster drawled. Your head whipped around to watch, terrified, as he slid soundlessly down the hallway toward you. You felt like you might throw up, even though you hadn't eaten in ages. "A commendable effort, but honestly... Where did you think you would go? This is my domain. No one gets in or out without my command. You are trapped here with me, my dear."

You looked back at the shortcut. Still open. Clearly, he couldn't see it. You closed your eyes and _pulled_. You were _so close_! But the body's death grip on your ankle was too tight, and Hernandez was too heavy for you to drag with you in your weakened state. You managed to pull him a couple inches forward, but there was no way you'd get through the portal before Gaster reached you.

There was only one thing to do.

You jerked your leg up. The laser hissed as it sliced through Hernandez's entire hand and part of your ankle. But you didn't even feel it. As soon as the tension released, you scrambled to your feet and lunged headfirst into the shortcut.

You tripped and fell, but your momentum was enough to carry you through. The air seemed to compress around you as the persistent echo you'd gotten used to suddenly disappeared. You blinked down at the concrete floor. There was dirt under your hands. You couldn't believe it. 

You looked back. The shortcut had closed behind you. Now, it was just an innocuous seam in the air. You blinked, and even that disappeared. But you could still feel its presence like a dull buzz in the back of your mind. 

You held your breath as you turned back around. Sans was really there... It hadn't been an illusion. His back was still to you, unaware of anything that had just happened in the void. You pushed yourself to your feet, heedless of your severe burns. As if in a dream, you limped toward him, your right foot dragging lamely on the ground with every other step.

_"Sans."_

He turned. He was perfect, just like in your dreams. Your eyes met, and a look of shock crossed his face. 

"Oh my God."

He dropped whatever he had been holding and ran to you. The moment his hand touched your arm, you fell. That was all you'd needed before you could finally, _finally_ let go. He caught you in his arms, supporting your weight easily. You slumped into him, your body practically quaking with sheer _relief_. You didn't feel it, but one of his hands touched the raw, charred flesh on your shoulder.

 _"Oh my God,"_ he said again, this time sounding petrified. You didn't like that. You struggled to put your arms around him but, again, you had trouble moving them the way you wanted to.

"It's... okay..." you said between sobs, "Please... Take me home."

\---

End of PERSEVERANCE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun story about this chapter... A year or so ago when I was planning this part, I had to crawl under my bed to simulate the part where Reed sneaks under the laser so I could test out if a person roughly my size could really make it under a gap that small. My head just barely fit, but my shoulders and ass didn't make the cut. I decided to fudge it a little and just have Reed burn their shoulders, cuz I knew that part would already be long and graphic and I didn't want to prolong it too much. 
> 
> So what I'm saying is, canonically, Reed has a flatter ass than me. The more you know.


	34. The Observer Effect

PART 5 - PATIENCE

\---

"Oh my God! You found them?!?" you heard Undyne exclaim, though you saw nothing but the floor. Sans had you thrown over his shoulder as he hefted you through several shortcuts. You remained limp. You were done... It was time for someone else to take care of things.

"Get Papyrus." Sans carried you across the living room and gently set you face-down on the couch. Undyne gasped.

"Holy _shit._ " 

"Yeah, I know," Sans growled, irritated, " _Get Papyrus._ "

Without another word, Undyne was gone. You heard the front door open, then slam shut. A tender hand carded through your hair.

"Hey, babe. You still awake?" In response, you simply turned your head to look at him. You gave him a strained smile, which he returned.

"I found you," you whispered proudly, if drowsily. You tried to reach out to touch his face, but couldn't manage to lift your arm.

"Sure did," Sans replied quietly. His hand slid out of your hair and hovered over your back. His brow creased with worry. "Don't fall asleep, 'kay?"

"Mmm," you hummed. You really wanted to pass out right about then. But if Sans didn't want you to, then you had to try to stay awake. Your chest hurt, but not in the kind of way it had when your sternum was broken. It felt more like your heart had grown three times in size and was beating painfully against the walls of your ribcage. Too loud, and too fast.

"SIBLING?! ARE YOU-" Papyrus started shouting before he even opened the door. He cut himself off abruptly. You must've looked really bad... You knew from your experience down in the True Lab with him that Papyrus wasn't easily bothered by the sight of injuries. The look on his face turned from shock to determination as he marched up to you and kneeled beside the couch. 

The instant Papyrus put his healing hands on you, you felt something dark twist in your gut. You buried your face back in the cushions of the couch to keep from growling at him to get away from you. You'd never felt like this before; getting healed by Papyrus had always felt pleasant and warm. Now, though, his hands were like ice on your back, shocking your burned skin in a way that might've been good for it, but that felt all wrong.

Shortly after Papyrus got down to business, the rest of the gang burst through the door. You didn't really comprehend anything they said, but the sound of your monster friends all badgering Sans for information felt cacophonous. You hadn't been prepared for this. You supposed it was natural for those who knew you to be confused and worried, but it was too much at the moment. Besides... You didn't want them to see you like this. You kept your head down, your face burning with shame.

All of the sudden, the loud _crash!_ of shattering glass silenced the room. You flinched. Even with your head turned away, you could see the reflection of a bright blue light on the fabric of the couch.

" _Get. Out._ "

Following Sans' threatening command, you heard everyone slowly shuffle out of the room. Only Papyrus remained. He didn't even seem to pause in the healing process, instead steadfastly ignoring Sans and everyone else around him.

Once everyone was gone, Sans went back to petting your hair. The longer Papyrus spent on you, the more awake you became, and the more you realized you... didn't like it. With every stroke, a shudder ran down your spine. You didn't say anything, though. It didn't even cross your mind that you could ask him to stop.

The unnerving healing process went on for ages. No one else tried to enter the room. As your muscles and skin were stitched back together, you wondered what everyone thought had happened to you. Did they look for you while you were gone? And how long were you gone, anyway? And...

"Frisk," your voice was muffled in the cushions, so you struggled to prop yourself up on your elbows before turning to Sans and asking, "Where's Frisk?"

"Don't worry about it," he said, which didn't answer your question. He stared at you intently, as if looking away from you would cause you to pop out of existence. Your movement had dislodged his hand on your head, but he simply relocated it down to rest on your shoulder. You had to twist your head around to see this, because you couldn't feel it. You were completely numb there.

Presumably, Papyrus finished up with your back, because he shuffled down lower to work on your foot. As he did so, though, you noticed the sound of bones rattling. You looked back at him and saw that he was clearly exhausted. His expression was strained in a way that it rarely ever was, and the orange glow in his eyes was dim. 

"Pap, you can take a break if you want," you said softly as you rested your tired head on your crossed arms, "It doesn't hurt." It was true; you felt almost nothing in your foot. You suspected you might start feeling it if you turned around to look at it, so you avoided that. As long as you couldn't see or feel the damage, you thought you could afford to let Papyrus rest. You were feeling much better already, anyway. You were still exhausted, but not the about-to-go-into-a-coma kind. Your heart no longer felt like it was about to burst out of your chest.

"Keep going," Sans overrode your offer without hesitation. His order didn't sound angry necessarily, but it left no room for argument.

"Of course..." Papyrus mumbled, but, even as he said it, the light in his eyes went out completely. Still, he put his hand on your ankle and gave it a shot. To your surprise, it seemed to work. You shivered as your severed muscles came together again. This time, though, you didn't get that chilly feeling from before. It felt like a normal magical healing, if such a thing were possible.

After another minute of this, Papyrus finally stopped. He turned around and sat heavy on the floor, slumped against the couch.

"Nyeh... All done, sibling. Feel better?" He tilted his head to look back at you with a tentative smile. You rolled over, suddenly self-conscious about the state you were in. Cold sweat and grime covered every inch of you, and you were still dressed in nothing but a tattered hospital gown. You curled up on your side and, now that you had full range of motion in your arms again, drew your hands up to your chest

"Yeah," you whispered, "Thanks."

You wanted to fall asleep. You felt like you were on the edge of it, but you were so uncomfortable and tense. It was just enough to keep you alert. 

"Pap, can we have a minute?" Sans asked his brother. Even in your state, you couldn't help but to feel bad for Papyrus as he pushed himself to his feet.

"Yes... I will tell everyone else that you are all better! But not to come in here," he quickly added the last part upon seeing the look on Sans' face. He hesitated, his hands wringing together in front of him. "I... am glad you are back, sibling! We were all very worried about you!"

Again, you didn't know how much Papyrus and the others knew, so all you could do was nod. You hoped... _prayed_ that Sans hadn't told them anything. Best case scenario was if everyone thought you just got lost in the woods for a while. You knew it was probably absurd to think that no one would suspect foul play, but that was what you hoped for. You just got back, and you already wanted everything to return to how it was before. You didn't want to have to answer any difficult questions.

Speaking of which, you knew before Papyrus even left the room that Sans had something he wanted to ask you. He had this guilty look on his face, as though he knew you didn't want to talk, but was going to make you do it anyway. He took your hand in his and pressed it to his cheek. You could feel his jaw move as he said,

"I know this ain't a good time, but I gotta know... Are you in danger? Is he... after you, or somethin'?" Your toes curled with fear at the very thought. 

"I doubt he's happy, but I don't think he can leave the void yet," you answered quietly, your tone meek. You remembered the black sludge that still clung to his feet. He still had work to do... He couldn't pursue you. Sans' fingers tightened around your own. He frowned.

"What did he..." he trailed off, then shook his head. "Nevermind. What do you need me to do?"

The question caught you off guard. You needed so much... A shower, some warmer clothes, a secluded place to sleep, a good meal. You didn't know which were more pressing, so you found yourself stammering in distress,

"I don't... I don't know..."

Carefully, Sans slid an arm under your shoulders, then lifted you up just enough that he could slip under you. He set you back down on his lap, pulling you forward so that your torso was leaning against his and you could bury your face in his neck. You did just that, letting out a long, shaky breath as you did. 

"Just go to sleep. I'll take care of everything else."

It seemed that all you'd really needed was Sans' permission. As soon as you got it, you felt your eyelids growing too heavy to keep open. In no time at all, you were out like a light, falling into an uneasy, but dreamless, sleep. 

***

When you woke up later, you were groggy and confused. For a brief moment, you thought you were in your cell again. But the surface you were lying on was too soft. Then, you thought you had to be in your bed at your apartment. Had this all been nothing more than a bad dream?

To find out, you had to open your eyes. This was quite a feat, since they seemed to have been glued together. You blinked several times, squinting at the soft, yellow light in the room. Vague shadows dominated your vision for a second until you blinked a couple more times, fighting back drowsiness. 

Once you had it together enough to see clearer, it became apparent that you were not in your apartment. You didn't know where you were, and that made you anxious. Until, that is, you caught sight of Sans slouching in a chair at your bedside. If he was there, then you must've been safe.

His hand was resting on the bed you laid on, so it didn't take much for you to reach out and poke his arm. He started; he must've been dozing. Maybe you should've let him sleep. His expression softened when he saw you awake.

"Hey. How you feelin'?" He took your hand in his and leaned toward you. You took a deep breath.

"Better," you answered honestly. You still felt grimey, but at least someone - Sans, you had to assume - had dressed you in proper clothes. You were wearing sweatpants and a comfy, white t-shirt. One of your lazy outfits that you kept up on the mountain to wear on weekends. But, if Sans had gotten this out of your closet, that raised the question...

"You didn't take me home...? Why?" Your eyes scanned the room again. The pirate flag on the wall, the action figures on the dresser... It had to be Papyrus'. 

"Lots of shortcuts in that house," he answered darkly. Though he didn't elaborate, you caught on pretty quickly. The barn had a lot of shortcuts, too. Something about that quality made it a prime target for Gaster. So if he could take people from the barn, then... Your house wasn't safe.

You felt tears well up behind your eyes, but you blinked them back. You were sick of crying... You didn't want to do it anymore. Not over this. But you couldn't help feeling a sense of loss. So much had happened in that house, and now... You could probably never go inside of it again. Not if you didn't want to go back to the void.

Even the mere, passing thought caused your stomach to roll with fear. 

"Everyone else... Do they..."

"They dunno anything," Sans reassured you, "They all think it was some human who did it. Hardly anyone even knows you were gone. Reives put Charlie on Frisk duty, he's been lookin' after them." You propped yourself up on your shoulders, suddenly alert.

"How long?" Sans stared at you. After a moment, he responded gravely,

"Three days."

You blinked, surprised by the number. Judging by how often you'd slept, you would've thought you'd been in the void for much longer than three days. No wonder so few people knew you'd been missing... You'd basically only been gone over the weekend. With a sense of urgency, you flung the blanket off of your body.

"I've gotta get back to Frisk," you muttered while swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Sans stood up abruptly, the chair making a grating sound as it scraped over the floor.

"Woah, hey, where's the fire?" He placed both hands on your shoulders, "Charlie's got Frisk... The kid's fine."

"I don't care who's looking after them... _I_ wanna be there," you implored. Sans shook his head.

"No, you need to stay here and rest."

"I've _been_ resting. I need to get back to Frisk-"

"Why? I told you they're fine!"

"Because I love them!" you blurted out. Surprised by your own hot-headedness, you rubbed your temple and explained, "They're like... They're like family. It's my job to take care of them. _Mine_ , not Charlie's. Let me just... have that."

That was all true, but there was something else underneath it that went unspoken. The last thing you wanted right now was to be coddled. You prefered to just act like none of this ever happened. Like it really was all a terrible, terrible nightmare. You wanted to go back to your routine, because that was what you knew how to deal with. Whatever would get you back to that point the fastest... That was what you were going to do.

Sans' grip on your shoulders tightened.

"You can't just leave right away," he growled, "You're staying here."

Some instinct pounding in your chest told your to drop your gaze, so you did. Almost immediately, you felt weird about it. This wasn't how you would've reacted to this situation if it had happened three days ago. In an attempt to recover, you pushed Sans' hands off of your shoulders with your forearms. You still couldn't look him in the eye, though.

"I'm not." Your protest came out quieter than you wanted it to. Sans was silent for a minute, until he shrugged off his hoodie and held it out to you. You looked at it, confused enough that the heat in your cheeks died down a little. 

"You're shivering," Sans pointed out, "I should've dressed you warmer. Take it." 

You frowned; you weren't cold. But, sure enough, when you looked down at your arms, you saw goosebumps on your skin. To pacify Sans, you took the sweatshirt from him. You didn't recognize it at first, but you realized when you felt the ameture stitches between your fingers that this was Sans' original blue hoodie. The one he'd given you to remember him by when you first moved to the apartment. You swung it around your shoulders and tugged your arms through the sleeves.

"...Sorry. If you, uh... really feel like you gotta go back, then I can't stop you. But I wish you wouldn't." Sans put a hand on your cheek to cradle your face. It was like he couldn't go thirty seconds without touching you... Though you couldn't blame him. You felt similarly. 

"I have to try to keep going, like always," you explained as you leaned forward, bringing your face closer to his. "I'm not gonna be okay if I just lay here." Sans looked you up and down. His jaw worked back and forth until he decided on what to say.

"I'm not gonna ask you to tell me right now, but... Whatever happened back there... You just take your time with it, m'kay? When you need me, you know where I'll be." You averted your eyes again.

"Okay."

***

Less than an hour later, you were coasting down the deserted, mountain road. You'd tried to eat a quick brunch first, but, despite how hungry you were, you could barely keep anything down. After that, you only had to fend off your concerned friends before you were on your way.

This was easier said than done. It was strange... Everyone seemed to dance around the topic of what happened to you, yet they all tried to convince you to stay another day or two with vague arguments pertaining to the "situation." Toriel tried to tell you that you weren't rested enough to drive. Papyrus wanted to heal you again, just to be safe. Undyne tried to convince you to stay until the person responsible was caught. Alphys stammered that she wanted your help on the DTEM. 

It was all a load of crap. They were all either lying, or didn't know what they were talking about. Only Asgore had a reasonable argument, which was that he thought you might as well stay one more day for the next Tuesday meeting. Little did he know that this would, in fact, make you even more determined to leave. There was no way in hell you were going to that meeting. Maybe your friends respected your unwillingness to talk... Or maybe Sans was able to persuade them not to ask you any questions. But you knew Reives wouldn't be so patient. You couldn't possibly face his inevitable interrogation. 

You drove in silence, too lost in your thoughts to turn on the radio. The trip seemed to take less time than ever, as you were surprised when you made it all the way back to the apartment, driving on autopilot. You parked next to Charlie's car. You almost forgot your two phones, which had been sitting in the cupholders this whole time. On the human phone, you had several missed calls and unread texts from your parents. Feeling a little ill, you deleted the notifications. You'd have to deal with that later.

Everything felt a little surreal as you walked up to your apartment. Nothing had changed, and yet everything had changed. One of your neighbors passed you in the second floor hallway, waving half-heartedly. You returned the gesture with equal enthusiasm, then turned around to stare at their back until they got in the elevator. You didn't even know your fellow tenant's name, but you felt like they should've known you well enough to be able to sense something... off about you. But they said nothing, blissfully unaware that you had been in hell for three days. 

You shook yourself, approached your door, and turned the key.

You walked into the middle of an oddly domestic scene. Frisk was on the couch, watching TV. Charlie was in the kitchen, washing dishes. The combined cacophony of the loud action movie and the water running in the sink drowned out the sound of the door opening. When he caught sight of you out of the corner of your eye, Charlie dropped the plate he was holding with a loud clatter.

"Thank _God_ ," he said before marching over to you and wrapping you in a tight bear hug. You hadn't been expecting that at all. Awkwardly, you patted him on the back. He gave you a hearty pat in return, his sud-soaked hands leaving a wet imprint on the back of Sans' hoodie.

"I'm... glad you're okay," Charlie said as he let go of you. He held onto your shoulder with one hand while rubbing the back of his neck with the other. He coughed, as though just realizing how sappy he was being. In a darker tone, he asked, "What happened to Hernandez? I know he's... But no one's been tellin' me anything..." In one, quick motion, you knocked Charlie's hand off of you. 

"Don't ask me that," you said sharply. You could've cut the resulting tension in the room with a butter knife. 

"But the people who took him... What happened to them? Are they in custody?"

"No," you said, then looked Charlie in the eyes as you added desperately, " _Please_ don't ask me about this. I just can't right now. Ask Reives."

You knew full well that Charlie wasn't going to get any answers out of his superior. But you hoped the implication that Reives knew something would get Charlie off of your back for the time being. Sure enough, it worked. His expression hardened, and he nodded. 

"Okay, I will. Sorry. Do you..." He looked back at Frisk, who had turned off the TV and was now peering at you from over the back of the couch. "Do you want me to stay for a while?"

"No," you declined his offer this time. Charlie had done enough for you over the past week. And besides... You just wanted everything to get back to normal. The guard hesitated, but relented.

"Alright. I'll grab my stuff and get out of here. I'll see you at the meeting tomorrow."

You didn't bother correcting him.

***

Finally, after Charlie left, you were able to take a shower. You had a brief conversation with Frisk beforehand. They, too, refrained from asking you about what happened. They merely filled you in on what they and Charlie had done together over the weekend, though they didn't seem as excited about going to the park and playing lots of video games as you thought they should. After you announced that you were going to take a shower, Frisk stood up and gave you a wordless hug around the waist. Gently, you pried them off of you, then knelt down so you could more easily wrap your arms around them. Aside from Sans, that little kid was the only one who could make you feel, even briefly, that maybe things could still be okay.

Now, standing in the steaming hot water, you scrubbed the sweat off of your skin vigorously. Your upper back still felt numb; you couldn't feel the scalding water hitting it. You doused yourself in girly, floral-smelling body wash just to try to be rid of the stink that covered you. It wasn't really the body odor that was so bothersome, but some other scent that you couldn't quite place. It smelled like ozone... Or like the oxygen mask an anesthesiologist would put on your face before surgery. Seemingly harmless, but frightening in its inescapability. 

You stood in there for five... ten... fifteen... thirty minutes. But you could never quite wash it all away. After a while, you started to zone out, thinking about nothing at all. When you came to, it was to the sound of someone knocking on the door. You cringed, but quickly realized that it must be Frisk needing to use the bathroom.

"Just a minute," you mumbled, probably too quiet for the kid to hear, anyway. You had your left hand bracing yourself against the shower wall while your right scratched your chest methodically. You didn't remember starting to do that, but you must've been doing it for a while. Your skin was raw, with little beads of blood welling up all along your sternum. The inside of your fingernails were dark red with bloodstains. You stopped scratching to examine them, bewildered.

Swiftly, you turned the water off. Your legs trembled; you'd been standing in the shower for far too long. Your knees creaked as you sat down on the edge of the tub, still a little confused as to how this happened. It took you a couple minutes to realize the huge mistake you'd made; you were _bleeding_. Not much, but you would have to get that healed up sooner rather than later.

However, when you looked back down at your chest, you were shocked to see that most of the bleeding had ceased. A few little scabs had already started to form. Somehow, your dead body was healing on its own. But it didn't feel like a cause for celebration...

Instead, you felt nothing but a sense of foreboding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people are afraid of spiders... Some afraid of heights... I'm afraid of oxygen masks XD I feel like that might've come up at some point in CYB or something, but I can't remember. Oh well, you get to hear about it again, if so.
> 
> Reed's fine, btw. In case you can't tell. Just dandy.


	35. Permanent Solutions to Permanent Problems

The next morning, you awoke to a text from Papyrus. As was his style, it was in all caps.

_HOW ARE YOU FEELING?_

You set the phone down on your nightstand harder than was necessary. Of all your friends, you hadn't thought Papyrus would be the first one to badger you about this. Your sleep had been blessedly dreamless, and you were relieved to have woken up to find yourself in your own bed for once. You didn't want to go back to thinking about... _it_.

But, as you got dressed and made your bed, like you always did, you realized you couldn't be mad at Papyrus. It was almost impossible, just on principle. So you shot him a short text back.

_Ok._

As you knocked on Frisk's door to wake them up for school, you felt a vibration in your pocket. Stubbornly, you kept him waiting until after you finished putting together a sparse breakfast of cereal and toast. In that time, you felt two more vibrations as he double and triple texted you. Finally, once Frisk was settled and eating, you read them.

_ARE YOU SURE? I DO NOT KNOW IF YOU NOTICED, BUT I THOUGHT YOUR HEALING SEEMED... OFF._

_IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY, YOU CAN TELL ME, YOU KNOW!_

_I WILL NOT TELL SANS._

That last one made your stomach twist. Your first instinct was to rebuke against it; why would Papyrus ever think that you'd want to tell him something that you couldn't tell his brother? But even you had to admit that the assumption wasn't at all unrealistic. You could've used that offer of secrecy from Papyrus back when you _were_ keeping the truth about your health from Sans. It would've been nice to have someone to talk to about it at the time. But you weren't doing that anymore... You really did feel fine. The skin on your shoulders even tingled a little, no longer completely numb. You had hope that you'd get all of the feeling back eventually.

_I'm ok. But I appreciate it. I'll tell you if something's wrong._

_OKIE DOKIE!_

His reply was swift and insubstantial. You didn't bother responding after that, since you were busy with other things, anyway. Frisk's hatred of mornings hadn't changed in the time you were gone so, as usual, you had your work cut out trying to get them moving so you could get to school on time. The only difference was that, now, they shot you funny looks every now and then. You ignored those, instead just focusing on the comfort of the routine.

The normalcy was abruptly shattered, though, when you heard a buzz ring through the apartment. You flinched at the unexpected sound, then sighed loudly. Reluctantly, you hit the door button in the hallway to let your visitor into the building. They must've taken the stairs, because the knock on your door came sooner than it could've possibly come if they'd gone with the elevator. You looked through the peephole first, and were dismayed to see who it was. You rubbed your forehead before unlocking and opening the door.

"Reives," you said his name in an unenthusiastic greeting. This was the second time in a week that the agent had come to your apartment, but he looked less out of place this time. For the first time ever that you'd seen, he was not wearing a suit. Seeing him dressed in jeans and a polo felt very, very off. You tried not to let it show, though. "It's like... Six in the morning."

"Six thirty," he pointed out annoyingly. "We need to talk."

"I'm about to take Frisk to school," you said while pointing over your shoulder at the kid, who stood frozen in the kitchen with their backpack on their shoulders. 

"There is a guard outside who will take them," Reives countered. "May I come in?"

Clearly, this was not up for debate. You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, not bothering to hide your irritation as you stepped aside and held the door open wider. Even after Reives entered, you continued to hold the door for Frisk, who scurried out into the hallway at a rapid pace. 

"Just look for the person in an officer's uniform... I'll come pick you up at the normal time," you promised, to which Frisk nodded and waved you goodbye. As much as you loathed school, you would've loved to have been in Frisk's place. Instead, you closed the door and turned around slowly, like a convicted man facing the gallows. 

"Don't give me that look," Reives protested as he made himself at home, settling down on one of the stools in the kitchen. "You had to know that, if you weren't going to come to the meeting, then I was going to come to you."

"Asgore told you I wasn't coming, huh?" you muttered, feeling betrayed. He had to have known the reason you didn't want to go was to avoid exactly what you were currently facing. 

You did _not_ want to answer Reives' questions.

"I need to know what happened," the agent jumped right in, wasting no time. He leaned forward in the stool, resting his elbows on his knees. "I understand this may be difficult to talk about, but-"

"You don't know the half of it," you snapped. You crossed your arms, your eyes darting around wildly as if searching for an escape.

" _Then tell me,_ " he implored, "You said that Officer Hernandez is dead. He was a good man. More good people will die if we don't catch those responsible. I know we have not always seen eye-to-eye, but this is far more important than a silly grudge."

"I know." You squeezed your own arms hard enough to leave indentations of your fingernails in the skin. 

You hated it, but Reives was right. People would keep dying if you didn't do _something_. You were the only victim who'd survived, and the only one who ever would. Only you could do something about it. You couldn't ignore this, but... You felt stuck. You couldn't tell Reives the truth, could you? He wouldn't see the nuance of the situation. The fact that it _was_ a monster who'd been abducting people this whole time would only prove, in his eyes, that monsters were savages. This would be the end of diplomacy between the two species. The end of everything you'd been fighting for.

You could lie. You could make up a story about a radical, anti-monster group abducting you. You could spin a tale about your daring escape. Or you could just say nothing. Reives couldn't force you to talk.

...But you couldn't let people keep dying. That was what it came down to, in the end.

" _Promise_ me you won't tell anyone," you practically begged, your voice high-pitched and nervous. "Not even Asgore. _No one._ "

You couldn't believe you were considering confiding in Reives, of all people. But he was the most powerful person you knew, and also the one with a penchant for keeping things quiet. He'd made sure your car crash hadn't gotten in the news, somehow. If anyone could keep this information from getting out, it was him. He was the only person who could rival you in secret keeping ability. And maybe... Maybe he could do something to help. 

But was it really your secret to tell? You hadn't talked about it, but you knew Sans wanted to keep this private...

"If that's what it takes, then yes. I promise."

You took a deep breath. Walked over to the other stool. Sat down and turned to face Reives. Then, you told him,

"It's not a human who's been killing people. It's a monster, and his name is Gaster."

Silence. Reives froze, an unreadable expression stuck on his face. After an eternity, he sat up straight and put his arm on the counter. He drummed his fingers on the countertop while staring at the fridge, deep in thought. Finally, he asked,

"Why?"

You had no idea how to explain it, but you gave it a shot. "He's... Not like other monsters. He's stuck in the void, which is like... Like a different dimension. Between life and death. He's killing humans to try to get enough power to get back to the real world."

You described it as clinically as possible, trying not to think of the void itself as you talked about it. It's cold, dark hall and bare, echoing atmosphere. Nothing lived. Nothing breathed. You were about to get sucked into thinking about it anyway when Reives commented,

"Sounds like the plot of a bad movie."

You couldn't help it; you burst out laughing. You ran your hand through your hair and turned around in your seat, resting your elbows on the counter. He was right. It sounded unbelievable. You wouldn't have believed it a year ago. 

"You think I'm crazy," you muttered, your fingers clenching in your hair.

"No, no..." Reives leaned against the counter too, trying to get you to look at him. His voice was uncharacteristically soft. It sounded incredibly weird. "It's magic stuff, right? I trust you understand it better than I do. How is he... Uh..." He scratched his arm, uncomfortable. "How can we stop him?" You shook your head.

"I don't know. You can maybe stop people from going on the mountain. That might help. But even that..." you trailed off. The barn wasn't the only place that was dangerous, it was just the most convenient for Gaster. Reives waited for you to elaborate but, when you didn't, he assured you,

"We can do that. Tell me what else." Finally, you looked at him again. You shot him a distrustful glare before asking, 

"What do you want in return, huh? Why are you being so cooperative?" You'd decided to tell Reives, sure, but you hadn't expected any of it to be this easy. You thought Reives had to be planning to extort you somehow. Be it money, or your resignation, or something equally sinister that you hadn't had the chance to think of yet; you knew Reives was going to want something out of you. He blinked at you, then said with a sad smile,

"You really think so little of me? I want people to stop dying, simple as that. Although..." He scratched his chin in thought before adding, "If you are looking for a selfish reason... I cannot let it get out that there is a monster murdering people on Mount Ebott. It would ruin me." When you shot him a skeptical look, he continued, 

"You may think me an enemy of the monsters, but the human public sees me as an extremist advocate of assimilation. I've gone on record avowing my support for monsters. I've denounced those protesters who claim their children were stolen by monsters as pitiful, desperate lunatics. If people found out they were right...?" He snorted and shook his head. "Well, put it this way. You do not have to convince me to keep this quiet. I do not want anything from you in return. Just enough information to put this to bed."

You bit your lip and looked away. You didn't know if you believed that Reives genuinely just wanted to do the right thing. It didn't track with what he'd done in the past. But he second reason was... more believable to you. And you weren't exactly in any position to turn down an offer of unconditional aid, even if you didn't trust it one bit. With that thought, you sat up straighter and said,

"Okay. Here's what you need to know..."

***

Over the course of a couple hours and several cups of coffee, you and Reives hashed out a plan. 

Step one was to restrict access to the mountain. It was unclear to you how Reives had the authority to do such a thing, but he assured you that he could "pull some strings." Keeping people off of the cellular dead zone that was Mount Ebott would hopefully limit Gaster's access to vulnerable campers who had no other means of fact-checking his faked cry for help messages. Or however else he usually lured victims to the barn.

Step two was to keep anyone from entering locations that you deemed to be dangerous. The barn, of course, was one, as well as your former home on the mountain. You had to wrack your brain to recall any other places that you knew to have an absurdly high number of shortcuts, and could only come up with two; The basement of Sans' old house in Snowdin, and your bedroom in your childhood home in Pueblo. 

There were too many locations to keep track of. If you really wanted to prevent potentially desperate people from barging into any of them, you would need to watch them 24/7. Reives half-heartedly suggested security cameras, but the idea was shot down. You didn't know how far-reaching Gaster's influence over technology was; it was possible he could manipulate the cameras somehow. It would be better to have people actually on-site making sure no one entered the danger zones.

Reives wanted to use the camp guards.

"You already trust them, yes? And Officer Tucker has been harassing me to know what is going on, anyway."

"You said you wouldn't tell anyone," you accused him, though your protests were weak.

"Don't be petulant. If we cannot use an electronic security system, then we will have to tell someone. I cannot be everywhere at once."

He was right, as much as you didn't want to admit it. Ultimately, you had to relent, though it was on the condition that Reives would be the one to tell the guards. After today, you were determined to never talk about any of this ever again.

Together, the two of you decided who to trust with this information. Charlie was a given, of course. Reives wanted him to stay at camp to continue performing his usual duties, so he got the easiest job of keeping an eye on your house from a distance. Daujatas and Green were also easy to trust, but the fourth candidate was more difficult to agree upon.

"I don't see why we need four," you pointed out, "Sans' basement is in the Underground. No humans will be able to get there, anyway."

"Yes, I know that. But monsters could wander down there, no? We should keep an eye on every location, just to be safe."

The implication that Reives actually cared about the possibility of a monster getting hurt gave you pause. However, whatever points he gained with you from that were quickly lost when, in his next breath, he suggested using Samuelsson as one of these trusted guards.

"Absolutely not," you protested, your nose wrinkling with distaste. "Charlie told me that Samuelsson is anti-monster. I'm not trusting him with this."

"He is loyal, and he has yet to let his opinions affect his work. I trust him to handle this professionally... Though we can avoid putting him in the Underground, if that will make you feel better."

Ultimately, you didn't have the grounds to refuse. There was no one else who Reives thought would agree to this; those four were the only full-time guards left, after Hernandez... 

Even still, it was entirely possible that they might refuse. It was a big job, after all. But you weren't going to worry about it. As far as you were concerned, this was now Reives' problem. You'd leave it up to him to convince the guards and work out the specifics. You'd done your job by telling him everything that was pertinent to Gaster's modus operandi.

However, if you'd had any brief illusions about being able to put this out of your mind for good, they were quickly shattered by Reives, himself.

"I'll be honest... I don't understand all of this talk about magic," he admitted as he stood up and smoothed a hand over his shirt. "I'll take care of guarding these... special locations, or whatever it is. But this cannot go on indefinitely. It is up to you and the monsters to put a permanent end to this." He fixed you with an intense look from over the frames of his reading glasses. "I don't care how you do it. Just get it done."

Your heart sank. Your fingers clenched around your cold mug of coffee. You stared down into it miserably.

"I don't... I don't know if that's even possible. With Gaster being... not technically alive, I don't know if he can be... can be stopped," you stuttered slowly, praying that Reives would understand and relieve you of the responsibility he'd put on your shoulders. To your dismay, he said in a blank monotone,

"Figure it out."

Almost on cue, your monster phone started to ring. You jumped, then tilted the phone on the counter to look at the caller ID. It was Sans.

"I'll leave you to it," Reives said before turning around and heading for the door. He looked back at you with an unreadable expression before opening it. If he was waiting for a goodbye, you didn't give it to him. Instead, you picked up the phone before he had even left. Finally, he walked off, shutting the door quietly behind him. You held the phone up to your ear.

"Hey."

"Are you okay? How did you sleep?" Even over the phone, you could tell Sans' voice sounded haggard. Like _he_ was the one who hadn't slept, though you didn't dare call him out on that.

"Yes, and like a baby." Suddenly restless, you stood up and walked into the living room to pace. You stared out the window and, before Sans could inquire after your health some more, said, "I... did something that you might not like."

In retrospect, that was probably not the best way to start the conversation. Sans' voice was full of dread as he asked, "What?" Out the window, you saw Reives exit the building and get in his car. As you watched him pull out of his parking spot, you admitted,

"I told Reives about Gaster." There was a long moment of dead air. You hastened to add, "I'm sorry! I know I should've asked you first, but he came to my apartment and... I just thought he could help. I'm so sorry, I should've just called you right away. I should've-"

"It's okay," Sans cut off your rambling, "You did the right thing." You turned away from the window.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I've, uh... Been thinkin' about it, anyway. Now that we know... We can't let him keep killin' people." Another lengthy silence. Again, you were the one to break it.

"We should've figured it out sooner," you whispered as though it were a secret admission. "If Orion had just looked around the void more when they were there... Seen the bodies... We could've stopped him before..." Your thoughts trailed off as you seemed to hit a dead-end in your mind. You rubbed your chest thoughtlessly.

"...I think I'm gonna tell Reives about how I can teleport, like Orion." He said it so casually that you thought you'd imagined it. You snapped out of your funk immediately.

"What? But I thought you didn't want anyone to know..." Ever since you'd blabbed about Orion's ability to use the shortcuts, Sans had been so protective of his own secret. You didn't understand why he'd want to come clean now. You heard him sigh a little through the receiver.

"Yeah, I didn't. But it just don't feel like it matters anymore, y'know? Maybe my whole shortcut thing could be useful to the feds, if they're gonna be helping us. I dunno." You heard the grating sound of bone rubbing on bone, and pictured Sans scratching the back of his head. "It's just... It's my responsibility. He's my father." You bit your fingernails absentmindedly, despite the fact that they were already short. An old, nervous tick that you thought you'd outgrew.

"If that's the case, then he's my responsibility, too..."

"No," Sans said sharply, "You've already... You've done enough. Gettin' Reives involved... That was a smart idea. Let other people take care of it now." Though he didn't plead with you, his tone of voice suggested that he was begging. 

"Okay," you obliged, though the assurance that you didn't have to be involved in this anymore was not comforting in the least. You were already heavily, _heavily_ involved, and you had no doubt this would all come back around to bite you again.

Suddenly, from the kitchen, your other phone rang. You jumped at the sound. You didn't go to answer it, fully intending to let it go while you talked to Sans. But, to your surprise, Sans read your mind and said,

"You should get that. Your parents are probably wondering where you are." He was right... They were the only ones who would ever call you on that phone. "I gotta go, anyway. I'm guessin' Reives is on his way here, and I suppose I should wear somethin' other than PJ's to talk to him."

At that mental image, you laughed, genuinely, for the first time in what felt like years. The sound felt foreign to your ears. He said nothing, but you could practically feel Sans glowing on the other end of the line. 

"Okay, bye. Love you."

"Love you, too."

You hung up. By the time that exchange was over, your other phone had stopped ringing and gone to voicemail. You paused for a moment, waiting to see if your parents would leave a message. You never heard the default _ping!_ sound that you had never bothered to change, so you assumed not. 

You didn't call them back right away. Instead, you fetched yourself a glass of water and sat down on the stool Reives had recently vacated. You didn't want to, but you needed to think about what you were going to say to your parents. 

_Just gotta keep taking little steps until everything's back to normal,_ you thought to yourself. You had a feeling it was going to become your mantra. Soon, people would stop asking about what happened, and you wouldn't have to lie anymore. Until then, you were stuck mending the jagged edges of the hole that had been ripped in the fabric of your life, each hand-made stitch closing it a little more than the last. 

Between your thumb and your forefinger, you rubbed the sleeve of Sans' sweater. Since he gave it back to you, you had only taken it off once to shower. 

As you sat there tracing the seams, you planned out what you were going to say. You were just going to have to tell them that an emergency had come up, and you couldn't talk about it yet. It wasn't great, but you'd used the same tight-lipped excuse with them before. They'd probably just figure it was all related... Which, it was, you supposed.

When you picked up your phone to call them back, however, there wasn't a notification for a missed call. Your brow furrowed in confusion. You navigated to your recent calls and, sure enough, the last time your parents had tried to reach you was yesterday at around noon. No one had called you yet today. 

You stopped and stared at the screen, thoroughly baffled by this. You shook yourself and hit a couple buttons to call your mom, anyway. The oddity was quickly cast from your mind.

***

After tiredly assuring your parents that you were okay, _really_ , there was not much else to do. For the rest of the day, the only person who called you was Sans. He rang every twenty or thirty minutes at least. Initially, he came up with plausible reasons to be calling you so often. First, it was to tell you how his conversation with Reives went. The agent hadn't been happy to have been lied to by yet another skeleton, but he was grudgingly appreciative of Sans' offer to help.

However, Sans' excuses for calling grew lamer and lamer as time went on. Eventually, he dropped the act altogether and admitted he was just checking in. You weren't mad about it, but simply perplexed. You were fine.

You didn't do much else outside of patiently tolerating Sans' check-ins. Mostly, you sat on the couch and rolled your cane between your hands. You didn't remember Sans giving it back to you, but he must've slipped it into your car before you left. You were always losing the damn thing.

You just kind of zoned out most of the time, waiting for... something. You weren't sure what. Later in the day, you started getting up and walking around the apartment mindlessly. It was a little disconcerting to keep finding yourself in different places, unsure how you got there. But it was better than the alternative, which was thinking about what had happened. Agonizing over what was going to happen. That anxiety and overthinking was usually right up your alley, but you didn't do it this time. The apathy was quite the contrast to how you'd reacted after the car crash. Maybe you were still in shock, and the panic would come later.

One time, you found yourself in the bathroom, staring at the mirror in a daze. You blinked slowly at your reflection, only half-aware of what you were doing. Gradually, though, you started to feel fear tickling the underside of your diaphragm. Your palms, which were braced against the sink, grew sweaty. You stopped blinking, instead forcing your eyes wide open. You were afraid to look away. Your reflection looked normal now, but what if it didn't when you looked back?

The sound of your phone ringing split the silence. Your head whipped to the side to look at the bathroom door, which was open. Your breath caught when you realized what you'd done. Quickly, you ducked down, crouching on the floor. You'd broken eye contact with your reflection... You couldn't look at it again now. If you did, who knew what you'd see?

You braced the sides of your head with your hands, covering your ears to block out the ringing and closing your eyes, just to be extra safe. Your heart pounded behind your ribs. Distantly, you knew you were acting strange, but your fear was uncontrollable. It pulsed through your veins like an aching pain, making you quake with the force of it.

Above all else, though, you had to answer the phone. It was probably Sans. Still shaking, you covered your eyes with one hand and put the other on the sink to leverage yourself up. Blindly, you felt your way out of the bathroom, running your hand along the vanity and then the wall. Once you were out, you shut the door firmly behind you.

By the time you felt safe enough to open your eyes, your phone had gone to voicemail. You fast-walked over to it, wiped your palms on your pants, and checked your call history. Sure enough, it had been Sans. You called him back immediately.

"You okay?" he asked in lieu of a greeting.

"Yup. I was just in the bathroom... Couldn't get to the phone in time." It wasn't technically a lie, but you couldn't exactly tell Sans the whole truth. Now that you had mostly snapped out of it, you recognized just how weird that had been. What were you going to say... That you had been cowering in the bathroom because you were afraid of your own reflection? No, stuff like that would make him think you shouldn't be living on your own. If he told you to leave Frisk and come back... You didn't know what you'd do. So you couldn't let him think that.

"Oh, okay." Luckily, he accepted the excuse. Your shoulders slumped in relief. "Well, just thought I'd check in before you went to pick Frisk up."

Shit. You looked at the clock and, yeah, it was about that time. Where had the day gone? If Sans hadn't called you, you would've surely forgotten about getting Frisk. You'd probably be late, as it was.

"Right... Well, I'm still doing fine. Just about to leave, actually," you said as you slipped on a pair of sandals and grabbed your keys off of the hook.

"'Kay. Alphys wants me to help with somethin' in the lab, so I might not call you again 'til seven. The usual time. Is that okay?"

Though you didn't say it, you were relieved that Sans was feeling well enough to do something other than sit around and worry about you. You had no doubt that was exactly what he'd been doing all day. As you bid each other goodbye for the umpteenth time, you were grateful to Alphys for giving him work to distract himself with. You wondered if it was intentional... If she even needed his help at all.

The drive to and from Frisk's school was uneventful. You were a little late, so you were quite far back in the pick-up line. That wasn't very unusual, though. As always, you asked the kid how their day was before you left the line. After all, once you started driving, you wouldn't be able to talk to them as you couldn't see what they were saying. Frisk, however, had little to say today other than "School was fine." You took that at face value and drove home.

Once you got back to the apartment... That was when things started to go wrong.

 _"LG."_ Frisk did your name sign, and nothing else. They had a serious look on their young face.

"Yes?" you asked as you leaned your cane against the fridge in favor of sitting on a stool. 

_"What's going on?"_

You pinched the bridge of your nose. Not again... You didn't want to talk about this. But you couldn't deny that Frisk deserved some explanation. You ought to have been grateful that they waited this long to ask.

"I'm sorry, Frisk... I dunno what Charlie's told you, but I'm guessing it wasn't much." You paused to watch them shake their head in affirmation. "I guess it started with the car crash. There are some humans who don't like that we're ambassadors for the monsters, so one of them decided to crash his car into my car." Frisk frowned. Their eyes were round and concerned. For a child, they had such an empathetic way of listening. It made you squirm.

"Then on Thursday, I got... Kidnapped." It sounded so ridiculous to say that out loud. "Kidnapped" really didn't cover the half of it. Upset, Frisk signed,

 _"Charlie said you got lost in the woods!"_ You wrinkled your nose. Maybe you should've asked Frisk what they thought had happened before launching into a stilted explanation. It would've been easier to keep up the lie Charlie had already established.

"Don't be mad at Charlie... He just didn't want you to worry. But it's okay now. I'm back, see?" You spread your arms out and forced a smile. Frisk was not so easily placated. 

_"But who kidnapped you? Why would someone do that?"_ You scratched the back of your neck. Clearly, Frisk hadn't made the assumption that you counted on everyone making, which was that the same people who had run you off the road were the ones who took you. Despite the number of lies you'd told recently (going all the way back to the past year, if you were being honest), you found it impossible to outright lie to the kid in this situation. 

But lies of omission were much easier than lies told directly.

"It doesn't matter," you said firmly, "The FBI is taking care of it. You don't have to worry about a thing." Frisk shot you an incredulous, dumbfounded look. You had to know you were being unconvincing when even a nine-year-old didn't believe you for a second.

_"That's stupid! I want to know, just like everyone else! We're a team!"_

"No one else knows either, Frisk." Despite your best efforts, you snapped at them. You stood up and passed the kid to grab your cane. "I don't want to talk about this right now."

_"When will you want to talk about it?"_

"I don't know!" you said, exasperated. "Just... Go to your room and do your homework. I'll be out here if you need help." Your words came out like a command, but the expression on your face was pleading. Silently, you begged them to return to the routine. To your relief, they did.

 _"Okay,"_ they signed grudgingly, their little shoulders slumping with disappointment. As they walked past you, you ruffled their hair. 

"Thanks, Frisk. You're a good kid." 

They shot you a small smile, but their heart wasn't in it. Softly, they closed the bedroom door behind them. You leaned heavily against your cane and sighed.

You stood there for a moment before realizing that you had to use the bathroom. You took three steps toward it, then stopped abruptly. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end.

You still hadn't seen your reflection since last time.

Your heart raced. Why did this bother you so much? It was just a mirror. It was just you. Your knees began to shake badly enough that you had to lean against the wall. You tried to will yourself forward, but couldn't bring yourself to go in the bathroom. The fact that this got to you so bad, and you knew it was stupid, and you still _couldn't stop_...

Helplessly, you gave into your new fear. You passed the bathroom in favor of the closet at the end of the hallway, where you retrieved a spare bedsheet. With a sense of urgency, you took long strides back to the kitchen to fetch some duct tape from a drawer. You had to leave your cane behind, as you needed two hands to hold the sheet out in front of you like a barrier. You walked into the bathroom like that, using the sheet as a shield.

With some difficulty, you managed to tape the sheet to the wall without ever looking at your reflection. You had to close your eyes for most of it, instead using your hands to feel around for the corners of the mirror. You used your teeth to rip off strips of tape, the taste leaving a bitter flavor in your mouth. Eventually, though, you felt safe enough to open your eyes and look at your handiwork. 

You'd done a good job. The sheet easily covered the mirror. Excess fabric pooled on the vanity. You could cut it to better fit the wall, but... Maybe another day. You didn't have the energy; you found yourself exhausted by even this simple task. 

With that done, you felt much better. You used the toilet, then returned to the living room to sit on the couch. You had nothing else to do, so you simply sat there and waited for seven o'clock to roll around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not like I've been [foreshadowing this](https://imgur.com/a/0hnNJh9), or anything. If you ever felt like I was oddly fixated on talking about the number of shortcuts in places, this is why XD
> 
> Also, it's been a while since I updated you on what's currently happening in the timeline! On the date this chapter is being posted (June 23rd 2018), Soulless!Reed is currently destroying the satellite in chapter 15 of TUYS. Good times.


	36. Please Leave a Message After the Tone

Wednesday passed you by, blissfully uneventful. Aside from Sans calling you more frequently than usual, no one gave any indication that anything was abnormal. Because nothing _was_ abnormal. You were doing okay. You slept well. You ate regular meals. You went about your routine. So what if, for a second time, you scratched your chest until it bled? It healed over again, anyway. So what if you often caught yourself walking around the edges of rooms instead of through the center? Those things were a little weird, sure, but they didn't matter. They didn't affect your day-to-day life.

Thursday was the first day you returned to camp. Your house was boarded up; you and Sans were staying with Toriel now. All of your monster friends were told that there was a gas leak in your house, so it was unsafe for anyone to live there for the time being. You weren't sure who had come up with that lie, though you had a feeling it was Reives.

Usually, Sans was the only person waiting in the road to greet you when you arrived at camp. This time, though, Papyrus was with him.

"Sibling!" He waved at you enthusiastically as you got out of your car. Sans trailed behind with his hands in his pockets. "I have to get to work, so we must be speedy about your healing today!"

"Oh, don't bother. I don't need to be healed anymore." You dismissed him without even thinking about what you were saying. Papyrus stopped in his tracks and blinked at you.

"What? That is ridiculous!" he said, but you could hear a hint of doubt in his tone. Behind him, Sans' expression turned dark.

"What makes you say that, babe?" 

"I just... Don't think I need it anymore." You shrugged. Even you didn't know how you could be so sure, but it just felt obvious. "Maybe it's been so long that I... got better."

That wasn't true, and you knew it. You knew why you didn't feel at all sore, aside from the usual aches and pains from your disability. _"I can bring you back the right way..."_

You knew, but you didn't want to think about it. 

"Well... I suppose it couldn't hurt to let it go for a few days, right?" Papyrus said, his eyes darting around as he wrung his hands. A smile quickly blossomed on his face, however. "Oh, but won't it be wonderful if you do not have to be healed anymore?!? I hope you are right, sibling!"

"Uh huh," you said noncommittally. You only had eyes for Sans, who looked troubled. "You should get to work, Pap."

"OH, OF COURSE!!" Papyrus shouted before jumping to attention. His armor clattered as he took off at a full sprint toward the Underground. As he ran away, he shouted back at you, "GOODBYE, SIBLING! GOODBYE, BROTHER!"

"Bye," you and Sans replied in unison. To your relief, Sans didn't bring up the healing thing once Papyrus was gone. Instead, he touched your elbow to get your attention and said,

"We've got a visitor. It's Charlie... I told him to wait inside. If you want me to tell him to go away, I will." 

You cocked your head, not immediately understanding why Sans would think you wouldn't want Charlie around. Then, it clicked... Of course, he must've come to talk to you about the situation. Again. Sans seemed to get that you didn't want to talk about it, and you were glad. But, at the same time, you felt that you couldn't just turn Charlie away like that. Especially if whatever he had to say or ask was important, which it undoubtedly was. 

"No... We can't do that," you said as you rubbed your brow, "Is Toriel home?"

"No."

"Then I'll talk to Charlie."

***

As it turned out, Charlie hadn't come to ask you any questions. He only came to update you on the plan that Reives had begun concocting. Truthfully, you didn't want to be updated. You had all but passed responsibility of the situation over to Reives; you didn't care to know about the details. But Charlie apparently had it in his head that you wanted to be in the loop. On the contrary, you wanted to be so far out of the loop that you didn't even know the existence of the loop, to begin with. 

You tried to tell him this. Subtly at first, then bluntly. 

"I don't need to know this," you said flat-out after Charlie's hasty explanation of where each of the in-the-know guards would be stationed. Samuelsson at the barn, Green in Snowdin, Daujatas at your childhood home, and Charlie, of course, in camp. Not that you wanted to know.

"You _do_ need to know," Charlie implored, "Listen, we're gonna need your help..."

You didn't like the sound of that but, as you dutifully listened to Charlie's explanation, you had to admit that he was right. As it turned out, getting each of the guards in their positions would be harder than it seemed. For example, you couldn't exactly drop Samuelsson in the middle of the wilderness and bid him good luck. There were preparations that needed to be made.

"Sans, Reives wanted me to ask if you could use your weird teleporting thing to bring Samuelsson supplies while he's out there. _Which_ , by the way, I'm pretty pissed you never told us that you can _freaking teleport_ ," Charlie added the last bit with an exasperated head shake. Sans, who was slouched on Toriel's couch, merely shrugged.

"Never seemed important 'til now." 

Charlie rolled his eyes so hard that you were pretty sure he could see into the back of his skull. He waved Sans off with an annoyed flick of his wrist.

"Anyway, we need someone to bring him food and stuff. And we'll need both of you to help build a shelter for him, if he can't stay in the barn..." Charlie glanced at you with that intense, calculating expression you hadn't seen on him in a while. Reives may have accepted your vague explanation of why certain places were dangerous as simple "magic stuff," but Charlie was clearly not so easily placated. You offered no further clarification, however. 

"I can do that, yeah," Sans agreed complacently, which made you feel like an ass when you said,

"I'm gonna have to say no, personally... I wouldn't be much help on a construction project." You brandished your cane in front of you knowingly. This was a poor excuse, and you felt a little bad about it. You could've probably still helped in some way, even with your impairments. But, honestly, you just didn't want to get even more involved. This was the last time you wanted to hear about any of this... Though you recognized this as perhaps the third or fourth time you'd had that exact thought. Still, it kept coming back to haunt you.

Before Charlie could even think about arguing, Sans stood up and dug in his pocket.

"Y'know what... Here." He handed over his phone. Charlie took it, his brows raised in confusion.

"What's this for?"

"Give it to Samuelsson. He can call me whenever he needs somethin'. I'll be there in two seconds."

You hadn't thought it possible for Sans to do something that shocked you anymore, but this certainly qualified. Sans wasn't exactly known for being the most selfless person ever, and this was quite generous of him. Not only giving away his phone, but offering to be at Samuelsson's constant beck and call. That wouldn't be an easy thing for him. You knew he felt responsible for the recent... _happenings_ , but you hadn't realized the extent of it until now. 

Charlie, however, was quick to shatter the touching moment by pointing out a fatal flaw.

"Call you... On what?" He wiggled the phone in his hand. You snorted back laughter. Sans scratched his head, then snapped his fingers.

"On my new phone, after I tell Alphys about how I lost this one. She'll fix me up with a new one, no problem." Sans winked at you. For a brief, shining moment, everything had a veneer of normalcy.

Oblivious, Charlie bulldozed on by describing Reives' plans for Green and Daujatas. You would have to play a small roll in getting Green into the Underground, but it was Daujatas' station that you had a problem with. The fact that your parents still lived in your childhood home was a complication that hadn't even crossed your mind. You weren't sure if it was just your old room, or if your whole house was infected with the densely-packed shortcuts. Either way, your parents were in _huge_ danger being in that house, and had been in danger for... However long Gaster had been doing this. Months, at least. You felt ill.

"I have to call them," you muttered as you pulled out your human phone, forgetting that you wouldn't get reception up here. Sans put a hand on yours, stilling it.

"No need... Reives is already working on it," Charlie assured you, "Right about now, your 'rents should be getting a visit from pest control. Seems your house is infested with termites... Who knew?" He shrugged and grinned, clearly trying to cheer you up. It didn't work. "Unfortunately, it's affecting the structural integrity of the house, and they gotta get out ASAP. Actually, it's affecting everyone on their street. Daujatas is gonna set up in the house across the road to keep an eye on things."

"...Okay," you acquiesced, though you didn't really like it. You hated having to force your parents out of the home they'd lived in for basically your whole life, but you didn't see any other options. Maybe they could move back in when...

When, what? You couldn't bring yourself to go down that road, so you grew quiet. Charlie had to be close to done talking, anyway. Your vision tunneled slightly, and you felt yourself starting to zone out. Just a little. Sans recognized that something was wrong almost immediately.

"Alright," he cut Charlie off in the middle of a sentence that you hadn't comprehended, "Well, thanks for the update, friendo. I think you should go now."

"Huh?" Charlie asked, perplexed. You heard his voice as though he were speaking through a PVC tube. 

"Uh... Toriel's comin' back soon," Sans lied. He stood up and started ushering Charlie out the door. "You gotta scram, buddy."

"Oh, right. I'm sure we'll have a chance to talk more later..."

There may have been an exchange of goodbyes, but you didn't hear it. You tried to focus, but found yourself unable to. You sort of drifted for a moment, not totally sure where you were or whether you should be worried about it. 

That was, until a skeletal hand touched your shoulder.

You jerked away, inhaling sharply. The hand pulled back as if burned. It only took you a split second for your vision to come into sharp focus and for you to realize your mistake.

"Sorry!" you gasped, mortified at yourself. Sans, whose hand was still halfway extended, looked dismayed.

"No, _I'm_ sorry... I'm the one who scared you." Gingerly, he sat back down next to you, never taking his eyes off of yours. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I was just thinking." You rubbed the back of your neck, then clasped your hands in front of you. Sans pulled his legs up to cross them on the couch. You hadn't noticed that he was wearing crocs until now, but it made you smile.

"What about?"

"I dunno," you said, because you had no answer. You'd just been zoning out again, not really thinking about anything. 

"...Wanna talk about it?"

"No." You emphasized your reply with a firm shake of your head. "Please stop asking me..." You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned forward. The more he asked you, the more it hit you that you couldn't get away with this forever. One day, he would stop asking and start demanding. How long until that happened? A month? A week? Tomorrow?

"Okay. I'm sorry," he apologized again. There was silence for a minute. Despite his apology, he continued, "It's happening again, huh? The dissociation thing, or whatever you called it." 

That gave you pause. You hadn't thought about it that way, but... yeah. Your zoning out felt a lot like what had happened often in Orion's body; when you or Sans would black out in your own mind and force the other person to take over. Except now, there was no one to take control for you. You were alone in your own body...

Or, you had to believe you were, anyway.

"You don't have to tell me why. But if that's what's happening... I mean, it's somethin' that I used to do sometimes. So... I guess I get it. To some extent." His fumbling attempts to relate to you were endearing, if nothing else. But it did actually help a little, too. Having a name for what was happening, realizing that it wasn't anything new or even all that weird... It was comforting. Made it feel more normal.

"Yeah, I think you're right," you finally spoke, your arms falling away from your chest slowly. "It's just... a lot happening right now. That's probably why. I guess we should just handle it like we always did before... Get to a quiet place and ride it out. Right?" Sans' lazy, perma-smile returned. He leaned back and put his hands behind his head.

"Exactly. No problem."

You flashed him a smile in return. In an effort to restore normalcy to the situation, you searched for a way to change the topic. The crocs were such low-hanging fruit, it was almost unfair.

"Where did you get those?" You pointed at the poor excuses for shoes. He wiggled his feet in them.

"Oh, these? Got 'em from Alphys... She found them in the trash. Thought I'd like them. I do." He smiled smugly, and you wrinkled your nose.

"They should've stayed in the trash, where they belonged."

"Wow, harsh. 'Least I own more than one pair of shoes, unlike someone."

"At least I don't wear my shoes in Toriel's house!"

The pseudo-argument culminated in you lunging for Sans' crocs, trying to pry them off of his feet. The banter was such a relief. It seemed impossible that, four days out from the void, you could still joke around at all. A part of you felt like you should've been morose 24/7. Like you weren't allowed to have fun anymore. But that just wasn't realistic. Things had _been_ terrible for days while you were gone, and you didn't want them to keep being terrible now that you were back. This was exactly why you wished everyone would stop talking about what happened.

When Toriel returned from wherever she'd been, she walked in to find you and Sans wrestling for his crocs. Most of your benign arguments devolved into play-fighting, so this was not surprising. What was surprising was that you managed to get one over on Sans. You had one of his shoes in your hand, which was held triumphantly over your head. No amount of shortcut-hopping could give Sans an edge over your height advantage. 

"Hello, dear," Toriel greeted you with a smile, "I assume Sans has informed you of the new living arrangements, correct?"

"Yes," you answered while Sans used your shoulders as leverage to try and jump for the shoe. He missed. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all! Though Frisk may have to sleep on the couch this weekend... Perhaps they will see it as an adventure." You were distracted from coming up with a reply when Sans deviously wiggled his fingers under your armpit. You yelped and doubled over, swatting his hand away. He snatched the croc from you and waggled it in your face.

"Don't mess with the best, darlin'." You scowled at him, but didn't rise to the bait. Over Sans' shoulder, you caught Toriel looking between the two of you with a thoughtful frown. Her smile returned quickly when she caught you looking at her. 

***

The rest of that Thursday was blessedly normal. Toriel made you lunch. You and Sans went for a walk through New Home, where none of the residents even knew you'd ever been missing. You returned to Toriel's house to play a card game with her and Sans. You had a rotating cast of visitors during that time. Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Asgore... All not so discrete in their motives. You knew they were checking in on you to see how you were doing, but you were determined to make them see that you were just fine.

You were sad to leave that afternoon. Everything was... worse when you were alone. For example, on the drive back to your apartment, you had a hard time looking in your rearview mirror. Even though you knew it wasn't pointed at you, so you wouldn't see your reflection, it still felt ominous. You avoided checking your mirrors, which was probably unsafe. You hadn't gotten so nervous about little things like that when you were with Sans and company. 

Like always, you drove directly to Frisk's school to pick them up. Rather than you asking them questions about how school went, they quizzed you on what you'd done while you were at camp. Probably looking for some clue to answer their lingering questions. You simply didn't bring up Charlie's visit, nor did you mention your little dissociative episode.

When you walked through the front door of your apartment, something stopped you dead in your tracks. You'd never noticed it before but, when the TV was off and you looked at it from a certain angle, you could see your reflection almost perfectly. There you stood, with Frisk at your side. As far as you could tell, you looked normal. However, for a split second, you thought you saw a huge mass of black smoke billowing behind you...

You yelled wordlessly and whirled around. As you turned, you instinctively snatched Frisk's arm and stepped in front of them as a shield. You felt the kid stumble when you grabbed them, but they managed to stay on their feet. 

There was no one there. Blood pounded in your ears. A creeping feeling of dread crawled up your spine. Had you imagined it? Was it a trick of the light? You didn't want to know, because what if it wasn't? Your fingers clenched tighter around Frisk's arm until you heard them wince. All at once, you let go. 

"Frisk..." Your voice shook, but so did your entire body. "Can you turn on the TV, please?"

Frisk marched around you so that you couldn't avoid looking at them. With a slightly pissed, stern expression, they signed,

_"Why? What happened?"_

Your feet shuffled to the side until your shoulder touched the wall. You hunched in on yourself a little and rubbed your sternum with your hand.

"Just do it."

Frisk's anger dissolved to concern. They frowned at you, but quickly scampered out of sight. You heard their light, tapping footsteps become muffled as they walked from the kitchen to the living room, then heard the click of the TV when it turned on. You closed your eyes and listened to the volume as it swelled to fill the silence. It started off on some kid's channel, but the obnoxious cartoon cut off abruptly as Frisk switched channels. Fox News was talking about next year's elections. The channel changed again, and the hosts of NBC had something to say about immigration. Finally, Frisk turned to the local news, which was currently airing nothing but the weather.

Around that time, you gathered the courage to turn around. With the TV on, you could no longer see your reflection in it. You slumped into your cane, leaning on it heavily. The hand that had been on your chest moved to brace yourself against the wall. Frisk set down the remote on the couch to ask you again,

_"What's going on?"_

"Nothing," you muttered while staring at the radar on screen. An angry, red mass of thunderstorms was going to hit the mountain and the surrounding areas tomorrow night. "Let's just... Keep the TV on from now on. Just turn the volume all the way down when you're not watching it."

_"Why?"_

"Because I said so." Frisk narrowed their eyes at you suspiciously. That was something your mom had been known for saying a lot when you were younger. You'd never used it with Frisk before because, even back when you were a kid, you'd thought it was a lame excuse. Now, though, you couldn't think of anything else to say. Frisk didn't relent, however. They just changed tactics.

_"Why is the mirror covered in the bathroom?"_

"Don't mess with that," you snapped as you limped over to the freezer, looking for something to make for dinner. "Leave it on there."

_"But why is it there?"_

You ignored Frisk's questions. They kept up with the barrage all while you heated up the frozen dinners. Eventually, though, they stopped asking.

***

It had already started to rain by the time you picked Frisk up from school the next day. The drizzle turned into a downpour on your way up the mountain, and just walking from your car to Toriel's house got you and Frisk soaking wet.

Sans didn't wait for you outside this time, but he was the first to greet you when you walked in the door. Meanwhile, Frisk ran to their mom and dad to give them each a hug. You were surprised to see the King visiting, though perhaps it shouldn't have been all that shocking. Toriel and Asgore had been getting along much better lately.

Per Frisk's request, Asgore stayed for a while to play board games with you, Toriel, Frisk, and Sans. However, the dynamic felt off. Conversation between you and the King felt stilted; he seemed to have a hard time looking at you. You couldn't decide if he was just concerned for you or disappointed somehow. Either way, you didn't know why.

Asgore left for his own house at the first rumble of thunder in the distance. By then, it was completely dark outside. You and Sans bid Toriel and Frisk goodnight and headed off for Frisk's old room, where Sans had been sleeping for the past week. As Toriel had predicted, Frisk was excited to be allowed to sleep on the couch.

It felt pretty damn weird to be sleeping with Sans in a kid's room. The twin sized bed was small, though you didn't mind that so much. What was more bothersome was the plethora of childish drawings taped to the wall. Between this and their room in North Ebott, Frisk had to have several dozens of drawings that they deemed worthy of a spot on the wall. The crude depictions of golden flowers, smiling children in striped shirts, and hearts of various colors set you on edge. Thankfully, you could hardly see them at all once Sans flicked the lights off. 

You and Sans slotted together perfectly. As always, you marvelled at how your bodies seemed to be made for each other, despite their glaring differences. Your head fit snugly under Sans' chin, while the hard lines of his pelvis were cushioned by your stomach. He curled into you, his one knee going between your legs while the other stretched out straight. You sighed and wrapped your arms around his back. The great thing about cuddling a skeleton was that you never ended up with that one awkward arm pinned between your bodies; there was plenty of space just under his last rib for it to slide under his spine. With your thumb, you traced the sharp protrusions that jutted out from his vertebrae. You felt his bones rattle. You smiled.

"Miss you," Sans mumbled into your hair in between planting skeleton kisses on your scalp. He stroked the back of your neck lightly with the tips of his fingers.

"I'm right here," you whispered back. You flattened your hand and swept your palm over his ribs, eliciting another shiver. 

"No..." he said, his hand sliding around to the front of your neck and down to your chest. "Miss you like this..."

You figured out what he was about to do just before he did it. Two clicks sounded before your own hand flew up to intercept his. You grabbed his wrist and jerked it away roughly. Your other hand tightened around his spine so much that the sharp edges of his vertebrae dug into your skin.

" _No._ "

Your stomach fluttered. Blood rushed to your face. You and Sans stared at each other. Your pupils were dilated wide with fear, while his had constricted down to small pricks of light. You should've seen this coming... You hadn't even thought about this. You should've felt bad for causing the hurt expression on Sans' face, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins kept you from feeling much of anything other than raw panic. That hand on your chest... The pulling... The _touching_...

You didn't realize you were hyperventilating until Sans started to act. He detangled himself from you, though he couldn't pry your hand off of his wrist. Instead, he slipped his other arm under your shoulders and heaved you up until you were sitting against the headboard. 

"Hey, it's okay... We don't have to do that. It's okay... Shh..." The shallow puffs of air kept coming, no matter how much Sans shushed you and murmured words of reassurance. 

Only your partner's painful wince was enough to snap you out of it. As soon as you noticed his carpal bones grinding together under your vice-like grip, you let go. Even your own fingers hurt from holding on so tightly. You brought your now-free hand up to cover your chest. 

"I don't... I can't... Don't make me... Please..." you gasped, never able to finish a full sentence. Sans' expression fell with devastated realization. A crack of lightning outside illuminated his dark, empty eyes.

"Fucker," he growled under his breath. In your panicked state, you thought the expletive had been meant for you.

"I'm sorry!" you cried, to which Sans hurriedly stammered,

"Nonono, not you." The lights in his eyes came back on. He leaned forward and rubbed your shoulder soothingly. You felt your own tears drop onto the hand that continued to guard your chest. "Don't worry... I'm not gonna touch your soul. No one's gonna."

That only made you cry harder. Sans knew. He knew what Gaster had done... The first part of it, anyway. You hadn't wanted him to know yet. You'd wanted to tell him on your own terms. The fact that he'd figured it out on his own was like a whole new violation. 

Could he feel how messed up it was? How black and empty? Should you show him now... Get it all over with at once? No... Just the thought of exposing your soul, even if it was to _Sans_ , made bile rise in your throat. You couldn't do it.

...So he'd managed to steal away your trust in Sans, too. Even now that you were out of the void, Gaster was still taking things from you.

Another flash of light shined through the closed blinds as the storm outside picked up steam. Booming thunder accompanied your harsh sobs. The two of you simply sat there and listened to it for a while. There was just nothing to say. 

Or so you'd thought. You wished he wouldn't but, as soon as you showed signs of calming down, Sans started talking again.

"Y'know it's not your fault, right?"

"I know that," you said, sounding almost petulant as you wiped your eyes. No matter how many times you did, though, they always teared up again. You only succeeded in making the skin around them red and inflamed. 

You knew it wasn't your fault... You knew you couldn't have done anything to stop Gaster. He'd had such complete control over you. There was no way you could've fought back. But that was exactly the problem. The helplessness ate away at you. If you'd screwed up somehow, could identify some moment when you'd done the wrong thing... Maybe you could've resolved to do better next time. But you couldn't. There was nothing you could've done better.

...And there _would_ be a next time. You couldn't fathom a future in which you never came up against Gaster again. Reives' "figure it out" echoed around in your head, constantly reminding you that this was your battle to fight. But you'd surely lose, and be brought right back to where you and Gaster had left off.

Sans couldn't have known why but, when you started crying harder again, he held you tightly in his arms and rocked you through it. You listened to the rain beating against the roof of the house. It calmed you down a little faster this time.

"Babe, I'm beggin' you," Sans spoke up. His voice was rough and crackly, as though he were on the verge of tears, too, "Please... Stay. Don't go back to the city. Stay here with me, so we can work on this together."

It was so tempting. You were better with Sans, plain and simple. You didn't know what he meant for you to work on, exactly, but, whatever it was, you knew you had a better chance of getting it done with Sans than without. Yet, still...

"I can't." You kept your head bowed with your forehead pressed against his collarbone as you spoke. Before he could ask, you added, "You know why."

"Don't..." he whined, but he couldn't finish his thought. By now, he had to know he couldn't convince you to abandon Frisk. You wished he would stop asking.

The two of you fell into silence after that. For the first time in months, you spent the night together without sharing souls. After some time, you transitioned to lying back down on your sides, but neither of you slept. You held each other close...

Never close enough.

Together, you listened to the storm raging outside without saying another word.

***

The weekend was bittersweet. There were good moments. Normal moments. Moments when you weren't thinking about what happened in the void. But then you'd catch Sans looking at you like you were some precious, fragile thing. Or you'd have to close your eyes while you were in the bathroom to avoid looking at the mirrors. And it would all come back.

At least Frisk had a good time. _They_ were the one comforting _you_ when you had to leave on Sunday afternoon, which was a new one.

 _"At least you get to go back on Tuesday!"_ they signed before buckling up. You stared past them out the passenger side window, where Sans stood outside of Toriel's house. It had been raining off and on all weekend, and now was no exception. The light drizzle made everything feel even gloomier than it already was. Sans raised his hand and waved at you, but the sharp movements practically oozed tension. Your mouth was set in a rigid line as you waved back. To Frisk, you replied,

"Yeah. I guess I do."

***

When Tuesday arrived, though, you were not too thrilled about it. You did _not_ want to go to the meeting, but you had to. It was your job, and Asgore was already possibly disappointed in you for some reason. You still weren't sure. He seemed pretty normal when he greeted you in camp, but then walked far ahead of you and Undyne as the three of you started your trek toward the Northwest tower.

"What's going on with him? Did I do something wrong?" You decided to ask Undyne as the two of you trailed behind the King. Undyne swore as soon as the question was out of your mouth.

"Shit... He didn't want you to think he was mad. Damn guy wears his emotions on his sleeves!" Her whispering voice was about as quiet as Papyrus', but Asgore was so far ahead that you didn't think he could hear anyway.

"So he is mad at me..." you muttered while looking at your feet. Undyne cuffed you upside the head, to which you yelped indignantly.

"No he's not, you dweeb! He's just..." She hesitated, rubbing the back of her neck while shrugging. "He's a little upset. He got it in his head that you might've told Reives more than you told us. I dunno why he thinks that... You _hate_ Reives!" 

She cackled, but you felt too uncomfortable to look at her. You wondered what Reives had said to Asgore to make him realize the FBI agent knew more than he did. For the first time, you questioned your choice to tell Reives about Gaster in lieu of telling any of your friends. But you couldn't think of a logical reason to tell Asgore the truth about what was going on. He couldn't do anything about it, even if he knew. Reives barely could, and he had the ability to "pull some strings" in the US government. Asgore, with all of his authority over the Underground, could do nothing to stop the kidnapping of humans on the other side of the mountain.

Besides... Anyone who knew about any of this was in danger, inherently. It was bad enough that Charlie and the other guards were involved. You didn't need any more of your friends getting killed over this.

You didn't have long to think about that before you made it to the tower. The usual crowd was there. Once everyone was seated and pleasantries had been exchanged, it struck you just how... diverse everyone's pools of knowledge were regarding what had occured last week. Reives knew about Gaster, and Charlie knew whatever Reives had deigned to tell him. Asgore thought a group of humans were to blame, but apparently suspected he wasn't getting the full story. Undyne knew nothing. You had to assume Wolfe was equally clueless by what she said to you immediately after you sat down.

"I would like to extend my deepest apologies for what happened. We are working tirelessly to apprehend those responsible." She sounded so sincere that you had to fight back a cringe. You looked from Wolfe to Reives, who leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed. He offered no such condolences. 

"Thanks," you muttered while rolling your cane between your hands. This meeting was going to be... Interesting.

Thankfully, Reives quickly steered the conversation away from that and onto the usual trade negotiations. To anyone who didn't know what was going on, the change in subject had to have seemed incredibly crass. But you were grateful for it. Reives sped through the list of usual supplies at a rapid pace. The fact that he didn't quibble over Asgore's request to import more gaming systems like the one Frisk had made it clear that Reives had more important matters on his mind. Sure enough, he was quick to sweep his notes about the supplies aside and pulled out a crisp, manilla folder instead.

"I would like to propose an addition to the camp's facilities," he announced. You furrowed your brow and leaned forward, putting your elbows on the table. You'd expected him to say something else; this was not part of the plan the two of you had concocted.

"Oh?" Asgore said, just as surprised as you. Reives opened the folder, turned it, and pushed it toward the King. You and Undyne leaned in on either side to look. It looked like floor plans.

"We would like to build six more houses on the other side of the road. We understand that the original houses are all either occupied, or uninhabitable." His gaze slid over to you. You thought you were starting to understand now. It was true that all of the camp houses were taken by various monsters who had moved to the surface in the past months... That was why you had to live with Toriel. 

"Our plan is to pay for the materials," Wolfe piped up. So she was in on this idea, but obviously not for the same reasons as Reives. "But we were thinking that perhaps some monsters could lend a hand in the construction. It would be a good exercise in... team-building," she finished kind of lamely, but Asgore was eating it up. 

"This sounds like an excellent idea," he said with a smile while flipping through the plans in the folder. "I must admit that I was not expecting further aid from the human government. Perhaps we could discuss clearing space for an additional road..." Wolfe looked scared for a minute, but there was a glimmer in Asgore's eyes that made it clear he was joking. Reives barked a short laugh.

"Don't get ahead of yourself."

It was bizarre. You'd never, _ever_ seen Asgore joking with the agents. For a moment, you could see Asgore's vision. Could see humans and monsters getting along eventually. Six houses weren't going to make that happen, you knew that. And, yeah, maybe the reason Reives had even suggested it was a little disingenuous. But comparing the attitude in the room right at that moment to how it used to be on day one was like night and day. It made you feel like things could be okay one day.

It was a testament to how terrible your life was going recently that you fully expected something awful to happen after this shining moment of hope. But it didn't. Asgore simply slid the folder back to Reives and the two of them agreed to start assembling the supplies and volunteer workers that would be needed. Only then did Reives bring up the topic that you had been prepared for him to discuss from the beginning.

"I have another idea I would like to propose." He straightened his tie and shot a quick glance at you before elaborating. "I believe we need to take human and monster integration to the next step. I would like to suggest allowing a human to take up residence in the Underground."

He paused for a moment to let that sink in. It was a bold proposition to make after nearly a year of dancing around the idea of humans and monsters living together. And to suggest that the _humans_ encroach on the _monsters'_ home instead of the other way around was a bit... Well, you would've understood if Asgore didn't warm up to the idea. Undyne's expression was dark, but Asgore appeared thoughtful rather than angry. Before the King said anything, Reives continued to explain his reasoning.

"I think it would be safer to start out this way, rather than trying to move monsters into human cities. For... obvious reasons." He looked at you more pointedly this time, probably thinking about your car accident.

"I do not know..." Asgore rumbled as he scratched his beard. "I think you are overestimating how welcoming my people will be. I am not convinced it would be much safer this way. Perhaps we should give it more time?"

"I think it's a good idea," you announced, recognizing that now was your time to jump in. "The people in Snowdin seemed pretty cool with... humans." At the last minute, you avoided mentioning Hernandez by name. The close call sent a ripple of unease through every person at the meeting, but you soldiered on, "Maybe someone who's already familiar with the monsters can go live in Snowdin. Like... One of the guards?" You looked back at Reives, ready for him to take over again. He did.

"Yes, I am sure they would be interested in the opportunity. What do you think, officer Tucker?" Charlie grunted and rolled his eyes a little, clearly displeased with having been dragged into this deception.

"Green would be a good choice," he said, as if this hadn't already been predetermined. Now that you and Charlie had spoken up in favor of the idea, Asgore nodded along in agreement. 

"Perhaps we could try it out. I would like to speak to Mr. Green about it privately first."

"Of course," Reives said smoothly. Before the conversation could end, you jumped on the chance to plant the last and most important seed of an idea in Asgore's head.

"Y'know, Papyrus' house is empty now. Maybe Green could move in there?" That was the whole point of all of this, after all. Someone had to watch Sans' basement. The easiest way to do that would be to take up residence in the house, itself. Keep an eye on it to make sure no one wandered too close. 

"Perhaps. I will speak to Papyrus about this, though I am sure he would be honored to offer up his home." 

You didn't pay much attention to the rest of the meeting. Your part was done. Charlie would keep watch over your old camp house, Sans was going to help move Samuelsson to the barn, Daujatas had already left to go guard your parent's house, and now Green would soon be able to watch the basement. You could stop worrying about new victims wandering into Gaster's waiting arms. 

Even after the meeting, you neglected to pay attention to your surroundings. You didn't remember saying goodbye to Charlie and the agents, but started to come to on your walk back to camp. You trailed a little ways behind Undyne and Asgore, who were quietly arguing about something. You were still a little dazed when you made it back to Toriel's house, where Sans was awaiting your return.

"Hey, how'd it go?" he asked while shutting the front door behind you. You blinked owlishly.

"Good," you said pleasantly, but without elaboration. Sans walked around you to look you in the eyes.

"You're out of it, aren't you?" You hummed in displeasure, then rubbed your eyes roughly with the heels of your hands.

"A little," you muttered, but the simple act of self-awareness seemed to rouse you the rest of the way out of your episode. Sans clicked his jaw.

"Why don'tcha sit down? We'll wait it out."

"It's getting better already," you said honestly, but allowed Sans to lead you to the couch anyway. There you sat together, neither of you needing to say much of anything until Toriel arrived. You had to put on a happy face for her but, as was the new normal, you kept catching Sans looking at you like you were cracked glass vase. Ready for you to break.

***

Wednesday came, and you were alone in your apartment again. The TV was on. For six days now, it had remained that way. Muted, but always on. Your electricity bill was going to be astronomical, but you didn't much care. It was worth the peace of mind.

You ran some errands that morning, but had nothing to do in the afternoon. You were beginning to dread having free time like that. If you didn't have something to focus on, you would just lose the time altogether. So you tried to spend it reviewing your sign language books, though you felt comfortable considering yourself more or less fluent in the language after months of practice. Even with something to do, you kept drifting in and out of awareness, often finding yourself wandering in different rooms. Once, you even came to in the elevator. You figured that incident should've concerned you more than it did, but it was more frustrating to you than worrying. You just wanted to be able to focus on what you were doing.

You were just starting to drift away again when you heard your phone ring. The sound snapped you back into the present, though it also caused a flutter of anxiety in your stomach. It was your human phone, so it had to be your parents. After what had happened... You couldn't pinpoint why, exactly, but you tended to avoid talking to them. You knew it was wrong and they were probably hurt by the avoidance, but it was just... hard.

Still, you probably needed to answer them. Ignoring the call would only eat at your conscience. So you got up from off of your bed and walked to the kitchen, where your phone sat on the counter. However, the number on screen didn't belong to your mom or your dad. In fact, there was no number at all. It was just blank. The only thing on the screen was the option to answer or hang up.

You were so perplexed by this that you didn't do either; you let the phone ring until it went to voicemail. You picked it up and frowned at it, staring at the lock screen for a solid minute before you noticed that, not only did the caller not leave a message, but there was no missed call notification. Much like what had happened last week.

In your head, you tried to convince yourself not to get freaked out by this. It was probably just an issue with your phone. Despite your best efforts, your hands shook as you googled the problem. It was difficult to type on the small screen when your fingers were trembling so bad. You didn't finish inputting the question into the search bar before the phone started to ring in your hands again.

It was the same thing. No number. Your palms grew slick with sweat. Should you answer... Or hang up? You smashed the red button just to silence the ringing. However, it only took a second for it to start up again as the unknown number called you for the third time in a row.

You tossed the phone back on the counter, where it landed with a loud clatter. You clutched your own hair, a frightened whimper escaping your lips. You didn't know what to do. It was just going to keep ringing...

All at once, you snatched the phone back up and answered the call just before it went to voicemail again. Your hand shook so bad that you almost couldn't even hang onto the phone. You had to hold it in both hands as you raised it up to your ear.

There was silence on the other end of the line. You said nothing, but he had to know you'd answered. He was waiting for you to speak first.

...What were you thinking? Maybe it wasn't him. Maybe there was just something wrong with your phone. Maybe you were making this all up in your head and none of it was even real.

"H-Hello?" you stuttered. Still nothing. "Who... Who's there?" Nothing. Not even static. Just dead air. A short-lived flash of anger smothered the fear long enough for you to command, "Answer me!"

You waited three heartbeats. Then, out of the silence, came a voice that chilled you to your soul.

_"Let me..."_

You didn't let him finish. Instinct had you throwing the phone across the room before you even knew what had happened. It hit the wall next to the front door, where it left a sizable dent before falling to the floor with a clatter. You clutched your hair again and doubled over. With every exhale came a breathless scream. The first few were loud and wailing, but they quickly turned into harsh, rattling cries as you lost your voice. You didn't realize you were backing up until your ass hit the kitchen counter. You slid down it to sit on the ground, with lightheadedness making it impossible for you to stand any longer. 

You had to do something about the phone. It was lying face-up on the ground, unharmed. You could see that the call was still ongoing. He was still listening.

With blood pounding in your ears, you pulled yourself to your feet. You stumbled over to the closet, where you struggled to extract the toolbox from the top shelf. Hernandez had insisted that everyone needed to buy a toolbox when they moved out on their own for the first time. It had been sitting up there collecting dust ever since. You practically threw it on the counter and dug around inside until you found what you were looking for.

Hammer in hand, you lunged for the phone and fell to your knees. You raised the hammer and, without hesitation, smashed it directly into the screen as hard as you could. Once might've been enough, but you hit it again. Two... three... four times. The fifth time, you only clipped the edge of the phone, which sent it flying into the living room. You dropped the hammer and crawled over to the device. It was most definitely dead; the shattered screen was black and concave. You were safe.

But then, you remembered your other phone. It was still on the counter next to the toolbox. Could he call you on that, too? You tried to push yourself to your feet, fell down, and tried again. You succeeded the second time and ran over to your monster phone. You grabbed it, but hesitated. 

This was your only way to contact Sans. Even now, when you were out of your mind with fear, you didn't want to destroy it.

You swiped a hand over your brow. It came back dripping with sweat. You didn't know what to do, but you couldn't let the phone just sit there on the counter. It would drive you crazy. Instead, you turned on heel and marched to your bedroom, where you yanked open your sock drawer and stuffed the phone way in the back. You slammed the drawer shut, and that was that. Out of sight, out of mind.

...Except it really wasn't. Far from putting it out of your mind, you paced the short length of your room and muttered incoherently to yourself. You were incapable of even _thinking_ a cohesive thought, you were so consumed by terror. You put your hand under your shirt and scratched your chest over and over and over, until there was so much blood that little specks soaked through your shirt and onto the hoodie Sans had given you. You paced for so long that your defective legs eventually just gave out, unable to support your restless panic any longer. You pushed yourself into the tightest space you could find, which was wedged between your dresser and your bed. There, at least, you were too confined to be able to raise your hand to scratch anymore. 

Instead, you just sat there and stared at the wall... Your unseeing eyes blinking reflexively as you remained catatonic for hours on end.

***

Had you been left to your own devices, you never would have come to on your own. You were confident that, without intervention, you would've sat there until you died of dehydration. What ultimately brought you back was the sound of the front door opening. 

You snapped to attention. By the time you had processed the sound, you had already wiggled your way out of the tight corner and gotten to your feet. Your joints were painful, but you were able to walk to the bedroom door and peer into the main room of the apartment. 

There stood Frisk, an open-mouthed expression of shock on their face as they took in the sight of the hammer lying on the ground, the dent in the wall, and the smashed phone in the living room. Quickly, you zipped the hoodie up to cover your bloodied shirt. The sound of the zipper alerted Frisk to your presence.

 _"What happened?!"_ they signed in sharp, frightened motions. You ducked back into your room to look at the alarm clock beside your bed. It was 4:30.

"...Oh my God. Did you... walk here?" Horrified, you limped over to Frisk and put a hand on their shoulder while looking them up and down. "I'm so sorry, I... forgot to pick you up. Are you okay?" You felt sluggish. Your speech was a little slurred. 

_"Yes. What happened?"_ Frisk asked again, but you ignored the question.

"I... Did... Did you tell anyone? Your teacher? Your mom? Sans?" You quizzed them, but they shook their head vigorously to every question. With eyes still wide with fear, they knocked your hand off of their shoulder and signed,

_"I didn't text anyone except for you. I didn't want you to get in trouble."_

"Good..." you sighed while leaning heavily against the counter. Your eyes swept over the room, taking in the aftermath of your full-blown freak-out for the first time. It looked... pretty fucking crazy, you had to admit. 

"Don't tell anyone about this. I... won't forget to pick you up again," you said, but you didn't sound very convincing, even to yourself. To keep from having to look at Frisk, you walked past them and started picking up the mess you'd left behind. The self-inflicted wounds on your chest stung as you bent over to pick up the hammer.

Frisk just stood there silently as you put the hammer back in the toolbox. Without another word, they started to help out by picking up your shattered phone, examining it for a moment, then throwing it in the trash. 

"Thanks, Frisk," you said, relieved that they seemed to have accepted your refusal to explain this time. They brushed their hands together over the garbage, then said without looking at you,

_"You're welcome."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't actually throw phones in the trash, y'all. Bad for the environment.
> 
> Go ahead and add to that list of symptoms... I'll wait ;)
> 
> EDIT: Hey, I just realized that, with this chapter, TAR is now officially longer than CYB *throws confetti*


	37. De Facto

Sans _hated_ Mondays and Wednesdays. If he'd thought being away from you was difficult before, it was near impossible now. Not a single moment went by when he didn't worry about you. It was maddening.

So, in a way, the fact that he had an absurdly long laundry list of chores was a blessing in disguise. It at least kept him busy. He hadn't known just what he was signing up for when he initially volunteered, but Reives had him runnin' all over the place to help the guards get set up at their new stations. Sans never actually spoke to the agent after that first conversation; the orders came secondhand from Charlie. Help build a shelter near the barn. Move Daujatas' stuff from her old house to the new one in Pueblo. Stock Samuelsson's shelter with food and water. 

Most of the favors took the form of moving X supplies to Y location. Half the time, Sans wasn't even sure if the stuff he was moving was for one of the guards or if Reives was just using him as his personal errand boy. He didn't complain, though. For one thing, it was kinda nice to get out of camp... And with permission, for once, so he didn't have to worry about gettin' in trouble. And for another... He was committed to fixing this mess. If anyone else got hurt, it'd be because he didn't do enough. It'd be on him. If healing this unfamiliar, gnawing guilt meant hauling two-by-fours through shortcuts all day, he'd do it with a damn smile on his face.

Didn't mean he didn't have his work cut out for him, though. The stuff he did for Reives mostly took place in the dead of night... It was supposed to be a secret, after all. During the day, Alphys always asked for his help in the lab. She seemed to have gotten it in her head that it was her personal responsibility to keep him from ever getting some shut-eye. She was trying to keep his mind off of things, and he appreciated the thought... But he really didn't have the energy to help her with the DTEM in between helpin' Reives and tryin' to keep an eye on you. 

Not to mention that working in the lab meant having to deal with that damn flower.

"Howdy, Sansy," Flowey said in a sarcastic, sing-song voice, "You look a little down. What's eating you?"

He offered no response. Just clenched his jaw and kept tweaking some numbers on the computer screen. The DTEM loomed behind him; an ominous, ever-present fixture in the lab. Flowey, who sat in his pot on the mobile workbench, leaned forward as far as he could.

"What's that idiot human done this time, hmm?"

Sans had had enough of this kid. To the point where he kinda regretted the fact that working on this DTEM project was gonna be beneficial to Flowey. He was only doing it to help Frisk and to get rid of Chara for good; getting part of Asriel's soul back was just a consequence of that.

"Let's see... Have they caused another mass genocide? Killed your brother? Lost their own soul?"

At the mention of your soul, Sans flinched. He couldn't help it. Memories of that Friday night came flooding back.

"Oh!" Flowey exclaimed, absolutely delighted. "Did they really? I didn't think I'd actually get it... I was just trying to piss you off. How'd they manage it this time?"

"They haven't lost their soul," Sans growled. He stared at the computer monitor without really seeing it. "You dunno what you're talkin' about."

Flowey kept blabbing on in an effort to antagonize him, but Sans didn't really hear any of it. Without another word, he wheeled the flower into the bathroom and closed the door on him. What Sans really wanted to do was lock him in one of the freezers, but those were too far away and there weren't any convenient enough shortcuts, so he settled.

When he got back to the DTEM, he didn't continue working on it right away. Instead, he rubbed his eyes and leaned against the wall with a tired sigh. Truthfully... He didn't know what had happened with your soul. He'd gleaned enough from your reaction to him trying to pull it out to deduce that Gaster had done _something_ to it. But, until you were willing to open up to him, he had no way of knowing what. 

The uncertainty ate away at him like a terrible beast gnawing on each of his bones individually. It had to have been something bad. Something worse than just... _touching_ it, though the thought of that alone was hard enough to swallow. It meant that he'd seen inside your mind... He'd seen all of your memories and, by extension, a good chunk of Sans'. To do that against your will was...

It was _so_ cruel that Sans couldn't believe he was related to that monster. Not only that, but he'd worked with him. Been his apprentice, or something of the sort. Had maybe even sided with Gaster over Papyrus, at some point. It wasn't really clear... Gaster had implied some things, but never elaborated on the details. Even the implication made Sans want to apologize to his brother over something that neither of them remembered or knew anything about. He wasn't going to, of course... He was determined not to get Pap involved in any of this. It was bad enough that he'd roped you into it.

He regretted showing you those entries more than he regretted anything in his life. 

Just when that thought crossed his mind, he heard the hum of the elevator as Alphys returned from fetching the copper wiring they needed for the DTEM. He had just enough time to get back to the computer and re-familiarize himself with what he'd been doing before he was interrupted. When Alphys walked in, he got right back down to business. 

But, no matter how hard he worked himself, the topic of your soul always weighed heavy on his heart.

***

That night, Sans was tasked with hauling several huge jugs of water from some warehouse in Virginia to Samuelsson's cabin outside the barn. He had no idea why Virginia. Sans picked things up at this place often, though, so Reives must've had a connection there. He was told never to go there before midnight or after four in the morning, and not to touch anything other than what he was supposed to move. It was all a little shady, but he never questioned it.

Calling the shelter a "cabin" was a tad generous. It was only one room, which was why Sans left the first jug of water outside. Samuelsson was sleeping in there, and the last thing he wanted was to wake up a cranky human who already disliked monsters. So he eased off of his magic slowly, making sure to set the water down as quietly as possible.

He huffed, then rubbed his brow. Those jugs were heavy; he could barely lift 'em, even with blue magic. And he still had four more to go. He'd have to rest in between...

Just as he was thinking that, his brand new phone buzzed in his pocket. His default, relaxed smile slipped as he dug it out. You were the only person who ever texted him, and you were supposed to be asleep. However, it wasn't your name that popped up in his notifications, but Frisk's.

_Something happened._

Sans' magic fluttered anxiously in his bones. That could mean any number of things. He glanced up at the barn, which looked deceptively innocent under the dim light of the moon. To avoid having to look at it, he took the shortcut back to the warehouse before responding,

_what?_

Frisk made him wait a while. In the meantime, he tried hard not to jump to any conclusions. Maybe it wasn't related to you at all. But, then again, why would Frisk be texting him about it if it wasn't? He leaned against the metal shelving unit behind him for support. The white glow of his phone screen burned his eyes in the otherwise pitch dark room, but he couldn't tear his gaze away. Finally, Frisk responded,

_I'm not supposed to tell you._

Foregoing all delusions that this conversation would only take a minute, Sans slid down until he was sitting on the floor. He crossed his legs under him and leaned forward as he typed,

_i won't tell them you told me_

Another long wait. For a kid, Frisk was very articulate and proper in their writing. Their texts read a lot like Toriel's or Asgore's, actually. It was annoying now, when Sans just wanted the barest details so he could put his racing mind to rest. When his phone pinged again, Sans' eyes roved over the long message hurriedly.

_They forgot to pick me up from school today. I had to walk home. They never answered my texts because they smashed their phone with a hammer. They wouldn't say why they did it. They were limping worse than usual, too. It was scary._

Sans pressed the top of the phone against his forehead. Why the hell would you do something like that? The weirdest thing he'd seen you do was zone out for a while. Well, that wasn't counting Friday night... But he had to assume you had a good reason for freaking out like that. He couldn't fathom any reason for you to destroy your phone, though. It had to have been your human phone, because he'd just talked to you on the monster one a few hours earlier. You'd sounded so normal then...

He hated how easy it was for you to lie to him.

To corroborate their story, Frisk sent him an image. Sure enough, it was your phone sitting in the garbage. Powdery glass covered the spiderweb cracks on the screen. It certainly looked to have been purposely smashed.

Still, the question remained. Why? Breaking stuff and forgetting to pick Frisk up from school didn't sound like you. Before he could inquire further, another text came in.

_There's more. They covered up the mirror in the bathroom. They forget to make dinner sometimes. And they keep the TV on all the time. They won't say why._

Sans' magic coiled around his soul tighter and tighter the more strange habits Frisk listed off. He'd had no idea. The forgetting meals thing, he could maybe understand if you were zoning out as often as he suspected you were. But the mirror and the TV... He couldn't think of a single explanation for those.

An outsider might not have thought it was a big deal. Those quirks weren't hurting anybody... They were just odd. But Sans _knew_ you. These days, nothing you did was a mystery to him. He knew how your mind worked. He carried a part of your soul with him, even. He couldn't claim that you never did anything that surprised him; it was part of what he loved about you. But he could always understand why you did those things after the fact...

This? He didn't understand.

This time, it was Sans' turn to take too long composing a text. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't stop you from doing those things... Especially not without letting on that he knew about them. Maybe, if you weren't so far away, he could fix you. Somehow. But he couldn't say that to Frisk, because he didn't want them to think it was their fault for keeping you away from him.

Even though it kinda was.

_just hang in there. i'll start calling them before you get outta school so they won't forget. lemme know if they do any other weird things._

It was all he could do. Frisk responded almost immediately.

_Ok._

With a sense of finality, Sans pressed the button to shut his phone screen off. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness he had plunged himself into. Once he could see again, he used his restless magic to pick up the second jug.

But, no matter how much he worked his ass off for Reives, it would never make him feel any less useless.

***

Thursday was weird. From the moment you arrived, Sans had to pretend he didn't know that you were putting on a fake face for him. He didn't know why it still surprised him... You'd done this from day one. No amount of promising not to hide anything from him anymore ever made you stop. 

This time, though, it was more sad than frustrating. He could learn to live with it if you never opened up to him about what happened in the void. But he did wish you would tell him what was going on right now so he could, if not help, at least be supportive. He didn't want you to feel like you had to soldier on alone... But he didn't know how to convey that to you without ratting Frisk out.

His opportunity came later that afternoon. Papyrus had invited everyone over to his house for lunch. You'd told Sans and Toriel to head on over without you; you had to use the bathroom. Toriel left, but Sans stayed behind to wait for you. He was glad he did... He couldn't help but notice that you were taking an awfully long time in there.

"Hey, what's the holdup?" he asked loudly while pressing his skull against the door. He didn't hear any movement, nor did you reply to his question. He rapped his knuckles on the door a few times. Nada. 

Privacy between the two of you was already a laughable concept, so he didn't feel bad opening the door to find out what was going on. As it turned out, you hadn't even made it to the toilet. He found you sitting on the ground, your back against the vanity. You had your arms wrapped around your knees, which were drawn up to your chest. You were looking away from him; your head was bowed and your eyes were fixated on a spot on the floor. The only movements you made were in your chest as you took deep, even breaths.

"...Babe?" Sans called out to you, but you didn't respond. You didn't even seem to have heard him. He opened the door wider and walked into the room. Even as he crouched at your side, you wouldn't look at him. It was like you didn't know he was there.

"Anybody home?" he asked with a nervous edge to his voice. He waved a hand in front of your face. Still nothing.

It was only when he touched your shoulder that he got a reaction. This time, he was expecting you to flinch. It was what you'd done before, so he was prepared not to let it hurt his feelings again. But he wasn't expecting your reaction to be quite as volatile as it was. You cringed away from his touch, your breath suddenly catching in your throat. Your hands came up to clutch your head as hitched gasps wracked your body. All the while, you continued to stare at the floor, never looking up at Sans.

He didn't know what to do. Unlike last time, his touch didn't rouse you from whatever trance you were in. Instead, it only seemed to get worse. Now, instead of just staring peacefully at nothing, you were having some kind of fit. You rocked back and forth, your spine hitting the cabinet under the sink sharply with every backward motion. 

"Hey! Snap out of it!" he ordered sharply, teetering on the edge of panic, himself. Of course, that didn't help. You continued to ignore him altogether. He heard the familiar sound of bones rubbing against each other. It took him a moment to realize it wasn't coming from him... You were grinding your teeth so hard that the awful sound filled the room.

"Shit shit shit..." he muttered to himself. He scrambled over to your other side, trying to put himself in your field of vision. You simply stared right through him.

This went on for so long that Sans decided he needed to intervene, regardless of whether what he was about to do was going to scare you even more. In reality, less than a minute had probably passed from the time Sans walked into the bathroom, but that was more than enough. He had to keep you from hurting yourself, at the very least.

With this goal in mind, he reached out and grabbed your shoulders. You let out a gut-wrenching, close-mouthed scream, but otherwise didn't resist as Sans pulled you bodily into him. He dragged you away from the sink so you'd at least stop banging against it. Now resigned to how unpleasant this was going to be, Sans began trying to pry your hands off of your own head. The moment his fingers touched your hair, the tears started flowing. At least you weren't staring creepily at the ground anymore; you closed your eyes as tears rolled down your cheeks. Sans somehow managed to get your hands off of your head without ripping out your hair. He kept a firm grip on your wrists and crossed your arms over your chest. This put the two of you in a sort of embrace, with Sans holding you from behind while you trembled and cried.

What followed were, quite possibly, some of the worst few minutes of Sans' life. He couldn't do anything but wait for it to stop. He didn't know what this was or why it was happening. All he knew was that you were absolutely _terrified_ of something, and none of his reassurances were getting through to you. He wished he could see what you were seeing... Understand what was going on so he could help. But he couldn't, and he didn't.

Eventually, it did get better. Your tense muscles relaxed while your breaths slowed and deepened. Sans let go of your wrists, and your hands fell into your lap rather than going for your hair again. Now that his own hands were free, Sans reached up and wiped away your tears with his thumb. 

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly. No response. He shifted his position so that he was kneeling at your side, but still kept a hand on your shoulder at all times. From here, he could see that your eyes were open, but you were staring at the floor again.

"Can you hear me?" To his relief, you nodded. Still couldn't bring yourself to look at him, but it was something.

"What happened?" There was a desperate, almost pleading edge to his voice. He tried... He tried so _damn_ hard not to ask you any questions that he knew you wouldn't be comfortable answering. But this one was vague enough that you could interpret it however you'd like. He hoped you would tell him something... _anything_ , if only so he could try to prevent this from happening again. Or, God forbid, from getting worse. This wasn't just you zoning out anymore... Between this and the stuff he'd heard about second-hand, this went far beyond anything Sans had ever experienced, himself.

You didn't answer him verbally. Instead, you raised your hand slowly and pointed up toward the sink. 

He squeezed your shoulder once before standing up. Cautiously, he leaned over the sink. He didn't know what he thought he'd find, but there was nothing there. Just a regular old sink, with the faucet and the soap and the...

"The mirror?" He looked back at you on the floor. He remembered Frisk saying something about you covering the mirror in your bathroom. He could see your shoulders tense when he said the word. You nodded, as if your body language hadn't been enough confirmation.

Sans turned back to the mirror and scrutinized it. He squinted at his reflection, but everything looked utterly normal to him. He placed his hand on the mirror, his individual bones tapping on the glass as they made contact. It felt normal, too; he couldn't sense anything magical or otherwise weird about it. 

He returned to crouch beside you. Your eyes flickered to look at him briefly before turning back to the floor. That was both reassuring and alarming. Sans felt terrible for thinking it, but he almost didn't want you to snap out of it quite yet. He knew you'd go back to being tight-lipped as soon as you were fully conscious; he wanted to ask you as many questions as he could while you were still a little dazed.

"What about the mirror? What did you see?" Vaguely, you gestured to your own face, then shot a quick glance over your shoulder.

"I don't know what that means," he admitted. You shook your head. Finally, you spoke, your voice raspy and quiet.

"Nevermind. It wasn't real."

Sans let that revelation hang between the two of you for a long moment. So you were... seeing things? Things that weren't real...

What the _fuck_ had Gaster done to you? Three days... He'd had you for _three days_ and that was all it took to turn you into a hallucinating, dissociative, shriveling wreck. And it seemed like it was only getting worse with time. What if, one day, you slipped into one of those panic attacks and never came out of it? His magic churned at the thought. What it you'd never be the same?

He was distracted from his dismay by you struggling to stand up on your own. Hastily, he took your arm and helped you up. You held onto him even after you were on your feet, though you continued to stare at the floor. Now, though, he didn't feel like it was because you _couldn't_ look at him. Your red face and hunched shoulders were indicative of shame. That wouldn't do.

"Hey... It's okay," Sans reassured you, though he didn't believe it, himself. "No harm done, right?"

You hummed noncommittally. He looked up at the mirror, which you continued to turn your body away from. He tapped your shoulder and pointed at it.

"Look... Totally normal. Nothin' to be afraid of." He could almost see the internal war you waged with yourself as you struggled to look at the mirror. Sans felt bad for asking you to do this, but he couldn't let you go on being afraid of your own reflection. Through the mirror, he watched you drag your own haunted eyes up. Your breath quickened and your grip on his arm grew tighter, but you didn't freak out again. That had to be a step in the right direction.

"Normal," you muttered to yourself.

Neither of you really believed it.

***

Two hours later, you were already on your way back down the mountain. Sans didn't even try to convince you to stay this time, though he wanted to. Even half out of your mind, you were so damn stubborn... It drove him crazy sometimes. He wanted to punch another wall, but he didn't dare do that while you were around. The last thing he wanted was to scare you.

Instead of breaking walls, he built them. A rotating team of monsters and humans had been working on constructing one of the new houses across the street all day. In need of something to do with his hands, Sans joined their ranks as soon as you drove off. 

Coincidentally, he was put in charge of the finishing touches in the bathroom. It was a one-man job, and he supposed he was probably puttin' off the impression that he didn't want to be a team player at the moment. So he found himself alone in the empty, echoey bathroom with an assortment of towel bars, toilet paper holders, and, yes... A mirror.

He managed to mostly keep his mind off of unpleasant things as he methodically installed the bathroom fixtures. The work was familiar; he'd always been the one to do the handy work around the house in Snowdin. Papyrus, for all of his enthusiasm, tended to turn home improvement projects into home diminishment projects. Plus, his work on the time machine had required a certain amount of skill with an electric screwdriver, so the tool was already familiar to his hands. 

As he was giving the towel bar a firm tug to test its strength, Sans heard a knock on the door. The visitor didn't bother to wait for Sans' say-so before walking in. He looked over his shoulder and was greeted by a familiar face.

"Hey, Sans," Charlie said a little breathlessly. There were sweat stains on his shirt. Clearly, he had been doing harder work than Sans. "How's it goin'?"

"S'alright. Didn't know you were workin' on the houses, too." Sans stood up from kneeling on the floor and set his drill on the counter. Charlie leaned against the doorframe and wiped his brow.

"I'm not, really... Just thought I'd pitch in on your house, is all."

Sans blinked, confused for a moment. He'd figured that he and you would move into one of the new houses together, but he hadn't known this one, specifically, had been set aside for the two of you. He supposed it made sense, then, why Reives had told everyone to focus their efforts on one house rather than working on all six of them at once. This way, he could start moving in sooner. That was... kinda nice of him, Sans supposed. 

His gaze was torn to the mirror that was still leaning against the wall. He clicked his jaw a couple times, then walked up to it and lifted one end.

"In that case, help me take this thing outside." Charlie furrowed his brow, but dutifully helped Sans by lifting the other end of the mirror. Truthfully, Sans could've carried it by himself using magic, but he didn't feel like it. Sue him.

"Why?" Charlie asked even as he carried the mirror backward through the house. Sans shrugged.

"Just don't want it."

Charlie didn't question it. Both of them were quiet as they hauled the mirror outside, leaning it reflective side down against the front of the house. It could stay there until one of the other houses needed it.

Now that Sans knew this was gonna be his place, he looked at it with a more critical eye. He stepped back onto the road to get a good view of it. It looked nicer than the original twelve houses. Same number of bedrooms and bathrooms, but more spacious. Plus, the attic was insulated and had a pull-down ladder, so it could be turned into a room later if the two of you so desired. It was certainly a step up from the half-assed houses across the street. 

"Hey... Why's this one number 14?" Sans asked Charlie when he caught sight of the shiny, gold address beside the front door. "What happened to 13?" The guard laughed before replying,

"Well... Us guards have a base down the mountain a little ways." He waved his hand down the road, indicating toward the gate that guarded the entrance to the camp. "We call that house number 13. It's kind of an inside joke, so we didn't want to change it."

Sans shrugged. It didn't bother him either way, but he knew the missing number would annoy you when you saw it. 

Thinking about you made him frown, which didn't feel right at all.

"Oh, great," Charlie mumbled, jolting Sans out of his own thoughts. He followed Charlie's gaze until he saw what he was talking about. 

Reives was here, which was... surprising. The agent never came to camp unless it was a Tuesday. He looked quite uncomfortable as the short, mousey monster who was in charge of the construction effort showed him around the site. Meanwhile, a human with a camera trailed behind them, taking pictures. Clearly, this was some kind of publicity stunt.

Stuff like this made it hard for Sans to feel indebted to the slimey agent.

"I gotta get back to my station before he sees me," Charlie proclaimed before clapping Sans on the back and jogging off toward his tower. "See ya later!" he called over his shoulder. Sans grunted, but otherwise didn't respond.

He didn't go back inside to keep working on the house. Instead, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched Reives get shown around the camp. His thoughts quickly circled back around to you, as they always did. Maybe Reives was taking advantage of the moment but, if you were there, you'd just be happy to see the integrated team of monsters and humans working together to build this house. 

You _should've_ been there, really. Your insistence on leaving to take care of Frisk was starting to border on insanity. You needed to come home, so he could help you. Sans didn't know what, exactly, he could do to help even if you were here with him 24/7, but surely he could figure something out. At least you wouldn't be able to hide things from him if he was always nearby to keep an eye on you. He sympathized with Frisk, he really did... But if you kept getting worse, there would come a point where you would become a danger to both yourself and the kid, if you weren't already.

But he couldn't force you to come back. You'd made it clear that you couldn't be persuaded, either. Sans felt helpless. He couldn't do anything... He never could. It was the same every time. He was always waiting on _you_ to do something. Always reacting to whatever _you_ did. Never doing anything proactive for himself. A year ago, when the soulless version of you called him out on his chronic passiveness... They'd been right. But, with your life and sanity on the line...

Maybe it was time he changed that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I didn't have a theme going of naming Sans chapters in latin, I would've named this one after [this song.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WhU9ihQabv4)
> 
> By the way... June 29th (last Friday) was the day the reader got their soul back. We're nearing the end of TUYS in the present day :3


	38. Promises

Everything just got worse and worse. Ever since the phone incident, you started... seeing things. And not just in mirrors, though that was certainly part of it. Out of the corner of your eye, you'd see a flash of blackness creeping up on you. Or a skeletal hand on your shoulder. You couldn't get away from these things. Couldn't avoid them by covering up reflective surfaces, though you tried. When you got back home on Thursday, you went out and bought a bucket of black paint, then spent the better part of the night meticulously painting over every shiny material in your apartment. The faucets on the sinks, the metal shower head, the stainless steel toaster. If you couldn't safely paint over it, as was the case with the cutlery, you threw it out. You'd have to use plastic forks and spoons from now on.

It didn't stop, though. You didn't sleep at all that night, you were so on edge from the visions. Or hallucinations. Definitely hallucinations... They couldn't be real. No matter how life-like the incomprehensible voice whispering in your ear was, he _couldn't_ be here. It made you question everything else, too. The phone call... Had that been real, or imagined?

Thinking about that had been a mistake. The moment you did, you started to hear your destroyed phone ringing in your head, too. You tore your apartment up looking for it but, of course, you didn't find it. It simply wasn't there. Eventually, you had to accept that fact. You gave up looking for it and just sat on the floor of the living room, your hands covering your ears as you rocked back and forth. 

The hallucinations eased up as the sun rose over the horizon. You were left lying on the carpet, exhausted. You heard your alarm go off in your bedroom and dragged yourself to your feet so you could turn it off. When you emerged from your room again to coax Frisk out of bed, you quickly found that you didn't have to. They were already up and peeking at you through their cracked open door.

"Good morning," you mumbled automatically, though it most certainly wasn't. You shuffled into the kitchen and popped some toast into the freshly-painted toaster. Frisk emerged from their room slowly. They stuck their head into the bathroom to examine the damages on their way out. Gingerly, they sat down at a stool, staring at you wordlessly all the while. They looked frightened.

"I'm not crazy," you defended yourself, "Stop looking at me like that."

Reluctantly, they did. You expected them to press you for answers again, but they restrained themself. They ate their cereal and toast quietly while you sat next to them, your head in your hands. You didn't make food for yourself; you weren't hungry. 

Suddenly, there came a knock on the door. You flinched, as did Frisk. That was how you knew it was real. You wished it wasn't, though... When you looked through the peephole, you saw several people. One in a suit, and the rest in uniforms. Police uniforms. You recognized the woman in the suit... She was your CPS caseworker.

You looked back at Frisk with what was, doubtlessly, a look of dawning horror on your face. Your mind raced. There was only one reason she would show up with the police. They were here to take Frisk away. 

"Frisk..." You started, but didn't know what to say. Your eyes darted around the apartment wildly. The window... But you were on the second floor. There was no way out other than the front door. You looked back through the peephole again, just to confirm that you were seeing things correctly. You were... Nothing had changed. While you watched, the social worker knocked on the door again.

You braced your shoulder against the door, even though it was already deadbolted. There was only one thing you could think to do.

"Do _not_ open that," you ordered a confused Frisk before leaving the door to run to your room. You dug your monster phone out of the sock drawer and found Asgore in your contacts. As the phone rang, however, you heard the _click!_ of a lock being released. 

"Frisk!" you called out, betrayed. You threw the phone on your bed and rushed back out of your room, but you couldn't get there in time. The door was already open. 

"Hi there, Frisk. Is your..." The social worker, whose name you didn't remember, cut herself off as she saw you standing in the hallway, out of breath. 

"Frisk, get away from them!" you shouted, your voice shrill. They didn't. Frisk was wide-eyed and frozen to the spot. You'd taught them to trust police officers, after all. 

With long strides, you made your way over to the front door. The intruders were faster, however. A uniformed officer stepped between you and Frisk, his palm out. 

"Easy," he said. You stopped in your tracks. "This'll all go much smoother for everyone if you cooperate."

"Cooperate _with what?_ " You tried to side-step around the officer, but he moved with you. Behind him, you could see the social worker kneeling down to talk to Frisk. You balled your hands into fists. "You can't be in here! You need a warrant... I know my rights!"

You were confident in that. You'd spent too long researching relevant laws at the library not to know what to do in this situation. The tips you'd learned swam around in your head... Don't say anything without an attorney. Don't admit to anything. Don't get aggressive. And above all, _don't_ let them into your house.

To your shock and dismay, the officer blocking you from seeing your kid produced a folded paper from his pocket. He handed it to you wordlessly. With trembling hands, you unfolded it and examined it critically. It... looked like a warrant to you, signed by some judge whose name you didn't recognize.

 _How_ had they gotten a warrant? What did you do wrong?

"You... You can't..." you stammered, but you didn't know where to go from there. The officer spoke before you could finish a sentence.

"You've been deemed to be unfit as a guardian. We've received several anonymous reports of neglect. Frisk will be placed in foster care until further notice."

It was so simple. Cut-and-dry. Even so, you didn't truly understand what was happening until the social worker took Frisk's hand and started leading them away.

"NO!" you screamed. That whole "don't get aggressive" thing went right out the window. You lunged for Frisk, but the officer seemed to have anticipated it. He grabbed you around the waist and held you back. A second officer stepped inside, further blocking you from the door. 

"FRISK!" Though you couldn't see them, you could hear their sniffling cries down the hallway. Without heed for the potential consequences, you elbowed the officer right in the nose. He swore and loosened his grip. You twisted out of it, but were met with the second officer blocking the door.

"Stop," she said sternly, "You're only making this worse for yourself."

"But... I... promised..." you objected between gasping sobs. You leaned against the wall, your legs trembling. Distantly, you heard a door open and shut, cutting off Frisk's cries. 

"I know you're friends with Officer Daujatas... She told me about you. If you stop now, we won't press charges."

"Like hell..." the male officer muttered behind you. You looked over your shoulder only long enough to see him holding his nose, blood dripping from his hand onto the linoleum floor. He glared at you, and you quickly turned your back to him again. Your breath came so heavily that you started to get lightheaded. You were too upset to understand how generous that compromise was, given that you had just assaulted an officer. 

"I... I... promised..." you repeated. Something started to tingle in the back of your head, buzzing around like lightning without a rod to strike. 

You were too out of your mind to fight back anymore, even if you wanted to. You slid against the wall until your knees hit the floor. Your whole head pounded. Blood rushed to your brain. The lightning slithered to your neck, causing a ripple of energy to run down your spine. The officers had a brief conversation with each other, but you couldn't understand a word of it. Eventually, they left, slamming the door loudly behind them.

With the source of your anger gone, you were left feeling hollow. The energy ebbed, retreating back to a mere tickle in your mind. You stared at the drops of blood on the floor for a minute while catching your breath. 

You were left with a single option. You stood up and yanked your keys off of the hook, not bothering to grab your wallet or your phone before marching out the door. There was only one person who could've organized this... One person who could pull the strings to have Frisk taken away from you with no warning. 

You were going to _kill_ Reives.

You'd thought he was on your side now. Fucking _stupid!_ God, you were such an idiot! He only cared about himself. 

Your tires squealed as you pulled out of the parking lot, cutting several people off in traffic. You headed straight for the mountain without the usual escort trailing behind you. Logically, you knew Reives wouldn't be there. It was Friday; he only came on Tuesdays. But it wasn't like you had him on speed dial... The only person you could think of who might have a way to contact him was Charlie, who would be where he always was. In his tower.

The two hour drive had never felt shorter. You didn't hallucinate at all during that time; your mind was completely clear save for the weird, persistent tingling bouncing around in your skull. You were still just as pissed when you pulled up to the gate as you had been when you left. You didn't roll down your window when you approached the checkpoint.

"You're, um... Very early," you could barely hear the young guard through your closed window. You simply stared ahead, not even looking at them. They opened the gate for you without another word. 

You didn't stop anywhere... Not even to tell Sans what happened. You parked your car as close as you could get to the trees, then got out and slammed the door shut. You started marching the familiar path through the forest. The problem was that you were lacking your cane; you'd left it at the apartment. You didn't notice until you were halfway there, when it started to become a struggle. A frustrated growl ripped through your throat as you had to stop and lean on a tree. Too determined to turn back, you picked up a large stick off of the ground and used it to lean on as you continued your trek toward the tower.

By the time you got there, your joints were screaming at you to stop. Your left knee popped in and out with every step, and your ankles set shooting bursts of pain up your legs. And you still had stairs to climb. You had to face the facts... You weren't going to make it.

Just as you thought that, the tingle in your mind flared in strength. You turned around and saw Sans as he emerged from out of nowhere.

"What's goin' on? I saw your car-"

"Get me up there," you hissed, dropping your stick to point aggressively up at the tower. You had to look absolutely crazed, but Sans did as you asked without question. You felt a shortcut open to your left and followed Sans as he grabbed your hand and led you through it. 

You found yourself not only at the top of the stairs, but inside of the guard tower. Charlie sat in his usual chair, his head resting on his hand as he stared vacantly at the camp below. He nearly jumped out of his skin when you and Sans appeared out of thin air.

"Jesus _christ,_ " he exclaimed, but you didn't have the patience for it. You marched up to him, trying to look imposing. You failed as you stumbled and nearly tripped over your own sore feet. You were forced to grab onto the table for support.

"Where is Reives?" you asked the question demandingly. Charlie looked alarmed.

"Why? What's going on?" He asked Sans rather than you. Sans shrugged, but you answered,

"They took..." you took a deep breath before trying again, "Some people came and took Frisk. I _know_ Reives is responsible for this." Charlie stood up from his chair.

"Hang on, _what_? Who took them?"

"I dunno... The social worker lady and the police. The officers knew Daujatas..." You shook yourself, then stood up straighter and reiterated, "I need to speak to Reives. Can you call him?" Charlie put his hands on his head and let out a long sigh as he composed himself.

"No. I can call the base, and they might be able to drive out of the dead zone and get in touch with him. It'll take a while, though."

"Do it." You meant the order to sound commanding, but it only came out desperate. Your anger drained quickly as responsibility for the situation was passed onto Charlie. You fell into one of the chairs around the meeting table, your head dropping into your hands. Sans rubbed your back soothingly.

"We'll figure it out, don't worry." He sat down on the table, leaning forward so he could look into your eyes. Probably checking for that vacant expression you sported so often nowadays, but he wouldn't find it. You were more present in the moment than you had been in days. The back of your brain still tingled, though Sans' gentle touch seemed to leech it from your body.

"They said they received 'anonymous reports of neglect,'" you told him while, behind you, Charlie talked on an old landline phone, "Who would _ever_ think I was neglecting them? Their teacher? Maybe Frisk told her something, after all..."

"Want me to talk to Daujatas?" Sans asked suddenly, "I could take a shortcut over there... See if she could talk to those cops and figure out what's goin' on." You considered it, but shook your head.

"No... You'd just get in trouble for leaving camp." Sans leaned back and waved you off.

"Nah. I'm allowed to go to her place. I'll be back real quick, promise." He stood up and ruffled your hair before disappearing through a shortcut, giving your brain one last tickle before the feeling evaporated altogether. 

You shivered belatedly from the touch to your head. Eventually, you'd have to tell Sans that you didn't like being touched there anymore. But there were a lot of things you had to tell Sans... That one was rather low on the list of importance. 

By the time you tuned into whatever Charlie was saying on the phone, he was already done talking. He hung up the receiver and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, they're gonna pass on the message to Reives that you wanna talk to him, but I dunno if he'll come or not." An awkward silence followed. Charlie took the time to walk around the table and sit down across from you. He folded his hands in front of him. "Tell me exactly what happened."

You did. From making breakfast to giving an officer a bloody nose, you recounted the events of Frisk's seizure. Charlie frowned when you mentioned the warrant.

"Do you still have it?"

"Uh..." You thought back, checked your pockets, then deduced, "I probably left it in the apartment."

He let you continue with the story without further interruptions. Toward the end, Sans returned through a shortcut. Charlie jumped again and swore under his breath, but Sans didn't have time for it.

"Daujatas figured out who the officers were and gave 'em a call. They dunno much more than you, but they said Frisk'll be in a kid's home for a couple days 'til they find a foster family."

The thought of Frisk being in an orphanage, alone and confused, made your stomach churn. Were there people there who knew sign language? People who would respect their pronouns? People who knew they had an allergy to pineapple? People who were going to change the bandage and reapply neosporin to the scraped knee they got on the playground yesterday?

You groaned and rubbed your closed eyelids. The pissed-off energy you'd sustained for hours on the drive here had finally whittled away to nothing. You were left tired and dreading the fight for Frisk's custody that was to come. What were you going to tell Toriel and Asgore? 

Sensing your distress, Sans hopped back up on the table and leaned his elbows on his knees.

"We'll figure it out," he said again, though you didn't believe it any more than the first time. You felt treacherous tears stinging at the corners of your eyes and turned your chair away so that Charlie wouldn't see you cry. It probably wasn't too hard to guess what you were doing, though.

"I can't believe Reives would do this," you heard Charlie say behind you. 

"Really? I don't have any problem believin' it," Sans said darkly.

"Why, though? And why now?"

Neither of them had any answer to that, and neither did you. Maybe he'd been wanting to do this for a while, but was just waiting for a good excuse. Your recent mental vulnerability would've provided that.

"I'm so stupid," you said into your hands, "He's the last person I should've trusted..."

"Don't say that." Sans sounded pained. Your chair creaked as he leaned against the back of it. "S'not your fault."

"It is," you insisted. He stopped trying to argue, probably realizing the futility of it. Uninterested in playing the blame game, Charlie changed the subject.

"You should go get that warrant. If Reives is really behind this, then it's probably legit. But it can't hurt to check anyway." Sans jumped off of the table again and asked,

"Where's the warrant?"

"Apartment," you grunted while furiously wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands. You had to keep it together, but you felt things starting to slip away from you. You thought you felt someone touch your head again, and you reached up to swat the hand away. But there was no one there.

"I'll take you," Sans said, holding out his hand to you. You shook your head vehemently. 

"No... Absolutely not. Taking a shortcut to Daujatas' place when you're allowed to be there is one thing, but you're definitely not allowed in my apartment building. We can't give Reives anymore ammunition..."

"Screw him," he snarled, then shook his hand at you more urgently. "Besides... Do you really think you can drive that far?" He raised his brows at you. Honestly, you were kinda hurt by the implication that you would... What? Hallucinate something and drive yourself off of a cliff? You'd gotten all the way up here, hadn't you? But, then again... You were starting to hear quiet little whispers in your ears that you knew weren't really there. And who knew how much worse it would get if you left Sans. It was always much better when he was around.

Still, though... You'd gone to great lengths to keep Sans from having to teleport to your apartment in the past. You'd almost killed yourself over it, for christ's sake. So, even though Sans' ability to use shortcuts wasn't a secret anymore, you were still hesitant to take him up on the offer.

"Oh, just come here..." Without further warning, he took your hand and tugged you forward. You yelped, but quickly covered your mouth with your hand when you realized where you were. 

You were behind your apartment building, in the small space between the big, green dumpsters and a brick wall. You clutched Sans' arm fearfully.

" _Sans!_ " you hissed. He ignored you, instead peering out from behind the dumpster. Your head buzzed as he perused the nearby shortcuts, undoubtedly looking for one that led into your room. "You can't just drag me through a shortcut without telling me!"

"Sorry," he said, though he didn't sound it, "But I'm not lettin' you drive all the way back here, then all the way back up. There's no reason for it." He looked back at you. His eyes widened. "Huh. Right behind you... Convenient." 

You turned around even though, of course, you couldn't see the shortcut. There wasn't enough room for Sans to squeeze past you, so you had to go through it first. You did so, with San's hands on your upper arms guiding you straight through the portal. 

With that, you were away from the smelly dumpsters and back in your bedroom. However, you hadn't considered what Sans would see once you were there. There wasn't really anything abnormal in your room; Sans had probably been able to identify it through the shortcut by how similar it was to your bedroom in camp. But out in the living room, there were some potentially concerning things that you had neglected to mention to him.

"Um... Just... Wait here," you said before dashing out of your room and into the hallway. You rushed to pick the fallen piece of paper up off of the ground but, inevitably, Sans didn't listen to you. He was right behind you when you turned around. With his hands stuffed in his pockets, he glanced around the room, taking in the painted appliances, muted television, and upturned couch cushions. You didn't even remember doing that last thing; it must've been something that happened when you were out of it last night.

"I... It's not..." you stammered, your cheeks red with shame. Instead of asking questions or, worse, getting mad at you for keeping secrets, Sans surprised you by stepping forward and wrapping you in an embrace. 

"It'll get better," he assured you in a quiet, soft tone of voice. Looking around the room... Seeing the results of your madness, plus the lack of Frisk... Caused you to be suddenly overcome with emotion. You sniffled, but bit back tears. You just got done crying, and you didn't want to do it again. You did lean into Sans, though, clutching the warrant in your hand while wrapping your arms around his spine. The whispers, which had been tickling at the edge of your awareness for several minutes now, disappeared as soon as you returned Sans' hug.

"Okay..." you said, though you weren't sure if you believed it. Sans pulled back to hold you at arm's length.

"S'there anything else you need in this room?" You tilted your head in confusion.

"I thought we were just here for the warrant..." You flapped it around in your hand half-heartedly. Sans' eyes flicked away for a moment before looking back at you.

"Well... There's no reason for you to stay here if Frisk's not..." He trailed off as he saw tears gathering in your eyes again. Your shoulders drooped. He squeezed your arms comfortingly. "Why doncha come home for a little while? Just 'til we can get the kiddo back."

"'Kay," you said, too tired to argue. Not that there was anything to argue about, anyway. He was right; you had no reason to stay here. And you would've been staying at camp over the weekend, regardless. 

Sans' true level of confidence in your ability to win Frisk back became apparent as he helped you pack some of your things. It seemed like he wanted to take _all_ of your stuff back to camp, even going so far as to set up the moving boxes you had folded away in your closet. He relented easily whenever you insisted on something staying behind, but, unless you caught it before it went into the box, Sans packed everything of yours in sight. Clearly, he didn't think you'd be coming back for a long time, if ever.

You were stressed and exhausted by the time you made it back to Charlie with the warrant. It was disappointing, but unsurprising, when he clicked his tongue and said,

"Yeah, this looks legit. I could have someone check on it to make sure..."

"Don't bother." You took the paper back from him dejectedly. "I'm sure it's all in order." Had it been fake, you could've maybe gotten Frisk back on a legal technicality. Without that, you didn't know what to do. 

You didn't hear whatever Charlie said next. Your vision started to tunnel as your mind went smooth and blank. Before you could get too deep into it, though, something brushed up against the back of your hand. You flinched away from it, your eyes snapping toward the source until Sans came into sharp focus. He had a concerned, intense expression on his face.

"I'm fine," you muttered automatically, though you had enough self-awareness to realize that you sounded a little drunk. You were going to crash soon. Even someone who didn't know about your... _issues_ could see that, which was why Charlie suggested,

"You should get some rest. D'you want me to tell Asgore what happened?"

"Yes. Please." That offer lifted a small weight off of your shoulders. You'd been dreading that part.

"I'll do that right away. Go take a nap or something... You look like you haven't slept in weeks."

"Flattering," you said sarcastically, though your attempt at levity fell flat. Even though you had your cane back and didn't really need the support, Sans took your hand in his.

"Follow me." As he said it, you felt another tickle in your head as a nearby shortcut opened up. More than willing to let someone else take the lead for now, you replied,

"Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ended up combining two chapters, which is why the total chapter count is knocked down a peg.


	39. Agent Victor Reives

Despite not having slept at all last night, you weren't able to follow Charlie's advice on taking a nap. Recently, you'd taken up pacing as a coping mechanism, but you were too sore to do that. Instead, you sat on the brand new couch in a living room that still smelled of fresh paint and fidgeted. 

You rocked back and forth, jiggled your leg, and bit your fingernails down to nubs. Eventually, Sans had to gently pull your hands away from your mouth to stop you from drawing blood. He tried to distract you with unpacking your things but, when that failed, he plopped down on the couch with you and watched you with weary eyes.

You just couldn't stop thinking about Frisk. The fact that you didn't know where they were was driving you crazy. For the past few months, you'd known exactly where they were and who they were with at every moment of the day... With a few exceptions. Now, you had no idea. They could be in trouble, and you wouldn't know. You couldn't text or call them; they hadn't taken their phone with them. They didn't have time to grab it. They didn't have any of their stuff, actually... It was all back at the apartment still. Would they be allowed to go back and get it?

Strings of barely connected thoughts wove through your mind like a thread getting more and more tangled in on itself. The stress was only compounded by your already flimsy grasp on reality. Several times, you found yourself believing things that just weren't true. Like that Frisk had lost their soul, or been taken by Gaster, or both. You built whole arguments with yourself based on these made-up scenarios, and even teetered on the edge of panic a few times. Eventually, you'd realize that you were making things up, and be left confused and frustrated. You couldn't even _worry_ right anymore.

"You're really keepin' me on my toes, here," Sans said tensely. You'd forgotten he was even there for a while. He'd scooted closer to you at some point and was currently holding your left wrist in his hand. You couldn't figure out why until you saw the angry, red scratch marks on your arms. He was probably trying to keep you from hurting yourself without restraining you so much that you freaked out. It was a fine balance.

"I'm so sorry..." You apologized sincerely. You turned away from him and looked at your feet. "You shouldn't have to deal with this..."

It was so unfair. Sans didn't ask for this... Not any of it. Not just the Frisk stuff; though it was true that he hadn't wanted you to take the kid on in the first place. Mostly, you were thinking about everything with Gaster. If you'd just listened to him and stayed still when he'd told you not to move, none of this would've happened. He wouldn't have to _manage_ you like this.

"How many times do I gotta say it..." Gently, he released your wrist to put his hand under your chin. He tilted your head up so that your miserable eyes met his. "It's not your fault. I'm not 'dealing' with anything. I'm just takin' care of you. You'd do the same for me."

When he put it like that, you could see where he was coming from. If the roles were reversed... Well, you didn't even want to think about that. It made you sick to think about Sans... And Gaster... 

But he was right that you would do the same if you were in his position.

"You eat anything recently?" Sans asked, breaking the silence. You had to dig back through your memory to remember, but... No. In fact, you were pretty sure you hadn't eaten in over a day. You considered lying just to put Sans' mind at ease, but that old habit hadn't been working out for you so well recently. So you sighed and shook your head.

"Well, we don't really have any food here yet... Been meanin' to go out and get some stuff. Wanna come with?"

Hesitantly, you agreed, but only on the condition that Sans took you to New Home through shortcuts. You didn't want anyone to see you and start asking questions about Frisk and what you were going to do about it. That would kind of defeat the purpose of going out. 

It wasn't usually in your nature to avoid a pressing situation so blatantly, but you had to admit that the brief grocery shopping trip did you some good. You and Sans argued good-naturedly about smooth vs. crunchy peanut butter and browsed the vendors of the Underground city until you were feeling more grounded. The two of you were quiet on the walk back until you reached the judgment hall. Only then did Sans bring up the issue at hand.

"So... I know it's tough to think about, but what're you gonna do if you can't get Frisk back?" The sound of your in-sync footsteps echoing down the hallway made the moment feel more ominous than it should've. The question hung in the air for a long moment. You assumed there would be court proceedings, similar to what Toriel went through when Frisk was taken from her. But, with Reives being so connected, did you stand any chance? The possibility that you may never win Frisk back was, if you were being honest with yourself, more likely than the other way around.

You stumbled a little as your cane caught on the ground. There was a discordant stutter in your synchronized footsteps before they got back on track again.

"I... don't know. Like you said, there's no reason for me to stay in the city if Frisk's not... I'll have to break the lease on the apartment... Call Frisk's school..." Just thinking about the legal battle and the ramifications for failure made your head spin. All you'd wanted was for things to get back to normal, but they were only spiralling farther and farther out of control...

"So we'll do those things," Sans said simply, "And, y'know... It'll be a whole lot easier if you let other people help you. Just sayin'." He shrugged casually, as if trying hard to make sure this didn't turn into an argument. 

Your cheeks turned red. You were certain he was referencing more than just today's events with Frisk. You hadn't been prepared to talk about this.

"It's... It's not that I don't want your help. Or that I'm too... Too proud, or something."

"You wanna tell me what was up with the mirror, then?" he asked quietly, "Or the black paint in your apartment? Or the TV? I could go on," he looked up at you with a rueful smile. You should've known this was coming. Sans had agreed not to ask you any difficult questions, but there was only so long that could last. You knew that.

The silence of the judgment hall was interrupted by little, echoey whispers that bounced around between the stone pillars. You knew they weren't real, so you tried not to look around for the source. But you couldn't help it; a weighty, festering presence felt like it was looming behind you, so you looked. Your heart pounded, but you'd been right the first time. There was nothing there. The whispers remained, however. Even though you couldn't understand them, you got the feeling they didn't want you to talk.

"I... I can't..." Subconsciously, you hunched in on yourself. You slowed down, your footsteps breaking out of sync with Sans' again. Eventually, you came to a stop in the middle of the hallway. Sans stopped with you. He set down the grocery bags he was carrying and slowly reached out to you. You weren't so far gone that you flinched when his hands made contact with your arms, but the touch still raised goosebumps on your skin. 

"Sorry... I shouldn't've asked. I said I wouldn't."

"No." You shook your head. Your free hand clutched his arm in return, while the other clenched tightly around the head of your cane. "I should be able to talk about it by now. It's been _weeks_..."

Sans' silence told you he agreed with you. He just wouldn't say it. 

A sudden flash of anger seared through your chest. Not at Sans, but at yourself. People always said it was better to talk about your problems rather than letting them fester, so why couldn't you talk about this? If you could, maybe you'd be getting better by now rather than worse. Maybe, if you'd gotten help from the start, Reives wouldn't have been able to find an excuse to take Frisk away.

The anger spurred the same sort of tingling in the back of your mind as you had felt earlier in the day. The whispers vanished instantly. You let go of Sans' arm and stood up straighter.

"I'm okay. We can keep going." Sans looked skeptical, but he complied by releasing you and picking up the groceries he had dropped. The two of you continued on in silence.

***

The rest of that day went about as well as you could've expected. From the moment you got back home, you were inundated with visitors. First Toriel and Asgore, who were understandably upset, though they insisted they didn't blame you. While you ate your peanut butter and jelly sandwich, they discussed the next steps. Usually, having a plan made you feel better. Now, though, it only exhausted you. 

They talked about finding a new lawyer; one who they could be sure wasn't at all associated with Reives, unlike the one who'd handled Frisk's case in the past. They talked about gathering human witnesses who could testify to your responsibility as a guardian, which would be difficult given the fact that you didn't have very many human friends anymore. 

"Perhaps it would be beneficial if you saw someone regarding your health issues," Asgore suggested in a gentle, but grave tone. "It would show that you are making an effort to improve." 

It took you a moment to decode what he was saying. He was talking about you seeing a therapist.

That made you laugh out loud, which you realized after the fact probably didn't help with the impression that you were unstable. You couldn't help it... The thought of going to a therapist seemed ridiculous to you. No one alive would ever be able to relate to what you'd gone through. If you couldn't bring yourself to tell Sans, then there was no way you were going to be able to tell a stranger. Besides, it was a secret that you'd been taken by a monster. The one human you'd told had already betrayed your trust; you weren't about to make that mistake again. And if you couldn't be truthful, then there was no point in getting counseling.

It was around that time that Charlie showed up, which saved you from having to make up a reason why you weren't going to get professional help. The officer came to inform you that no one had gotten a response from Reives yet, which likely meant that he wasn't going to come to camp at your request. He'd taken your kid from you without any warning and wouldn't even come to explain himself after the fact. Just another slap in the face.

Despite all of the talk about what you were going to have to do to win Frisk back, the fact remained that it was now late in the afternoon on a Friday. You wouldn't be able to do much over the weekend, which probably factored into why Reives had decided to act when he did. Your visitors left you with no concrete resolution. You'd all just have to wait for a few days and hope the human government would take good care of Frisk in the meantime.

***

That night, something odd happened. You dreamed. You hadn't had a dream of any sort since the void. The lack of nightmares had been an unexpected relief. Now, though, they started up almost immediately after you managed to close your restless eyes.

 _"Are you there?"_ A disembodied voice called out to you through the darkness, _"Hello?"_

You tried to respond, but you felt something smothering you. A hand over your mouth. You wanted to scream, but it wouldn't let you. 

_"Shhh..."_ A different voice, one that sent a shiver down your spine, shushed you from behind. A second hand wrapped around your chest and pulled you backward toward him possessively. The sound of the first voice calling out to you faded until it was gone.

 _"You belong here now,"_ he told you matter-of-factly. You tried to struggle, but you couldn't move at all. _"Your attempts to run from me are futile. We both know that."_ His hand drew back until it rested on your chest, the hole in his palm positioned right over your sternum.

_"I am right here. Forever."_

You jerked awake with a strangled cry that woke up Sans, who had been sleeping next to you. It took him over an hour to calm you down. After that ordeal, he deserved an explanation. He never asked, though you could tell he was hoping for one. You didn't give it to him.

Every night that followed proceeded in a similar manner. You'd hear a voice trying to reach out to you, then be snatched away by terrible nightmares of the void. Gaster never spoke to you directly after the first night, but having to relive memories of the mirror room and your cell was just as bad. You were only ever able to get a few hours of sleep at a time before the terror would force you awake. During the day, this left you constantly fatigued, which led to even more frequent dissociative episodes and hallucinations. 

As usual, things just kept getting worse and worse. You wondered how bad it would have to get before you simply keeled over and died.

***

You went back to Ebott City bright and early Monday morning. Sans was insistent on taking you via shortcut, but you reasoned him out of it. It would be easier to get done the things that needed doing if you had your car. On top of that, the stress of trying to keep Sans hidden would only make things harder for you. 

As a compromise, he made Charlie go with you. Sans was tasked with sitting in the Northwest tower and watching your old house while the officer was gone. Even with a substitute in place, Charlie was certain he was going to be in trouble if anyone found out. However, even he refused to let you go to the city alone.

Charlie drove, and so began a day of legalities that you weren't prepared to deal with. Finding a lawyer who would listen to your story and take on your case in one day was impossible. Literally. You didn't even get through the first task on the list of things you were supposed to do. You tried calling different places... Or, more like Charlie tried calling different places, because you "lost" your phone and were too afraid to get on a human phone again, anyway. The moment Charlie mentioned your name or Frisk's, everyone politely declined the case and hung up. You tried going to a law firm in person after that, and got an explanation from an older lady who was kind enough to bring you into her office and hear you out.

"No one will take your case because you are not technically Frisk's parent," she explained while twirling a pen in her fingers, "You were a legal guardian, which means you do not have all the same rights as a parent. The guardianship can be terminated with nothing but a court order. You could try to appeal, but the likelihood of you winning that case is slim."

"Why?" Charlie asked demandingly while you remained quiet. The lawyer continued patiently,

"Guardianship is, as the name implies, a legal relationship. It is not looked at with the same... emotional lens as parenthood. If the court has a legitimate concern regarding your care of the child, they would be hard-pressed to give you a second chance if your only argument is that the two of you would be unhappy being separated."

The simple, matter-of-fact answer put Charlie in his place. He was quiet as he thought... Probably trying to come up with some other reason why Frisk should be returned to you. You, however, had already given up.

"Thanks for your time," you mumbled, unable to look the sharply-dressed family attorney in the eye. She held her hand out to shake yours. Reluctantly, you took it.

"I am sorry to have to tell you that. But, as unlikely as it is, I do hope things work out for you."

That was the opposite of reassuring. As you walked out of the tall office building together, Charlie recovered and said,

"Let's hit up that other place around the block. Maybe someone there will-"

"No," you interrupted him, "What's the point? We've already asked a dozen people... No one wants to help us." You scratched at your chest absentmindedly. Charlie looked dumbfounded.

"Really? You're gonna give up? _You_?"

"I'm not... giving up," you protested weakly, "I just don't think this lawyer stuff is gonna work. We should try something else."

"Like what?"

You were both quiet for a long time. You split up to get in Charlie's car. Once you were both sitting down, he sighed and asked,

"Wanna go to a doctor while we're here?"

"What?" you said sharply. You were on the defensive, thinking that he, too, was talking about a psychiatrist. He clarified,

"You've been scratching your chest all day. If you've got a rash or something, we might as well get that checked out. No doctors up on the mountain, after all."

Slowly, you lowered your hand. You hadn't realized you'd been scratching that much. It was only a matter of time before you started seeing things... or hearing whispers... or zoning out. 

"No... I think I'd rather just go home." You needed to get back to Sans before any of that more serious stuff started happening. He was the only one who you wanted by your side while it did. Charlie ran a hand over his head and sighed again.

"Okay." He buckled up and started the car. You sat on your hands for the whole ride back, determined not to let Charlie know how crazy you were.

***

The day of reckoning came quickly after that. Throughout the weekend, you'd gone through cycles of anger and depression. No matter which emotion it was, you always felt overwhelmed by it. The fury would leave you shaking and pacing the room, the whispers in your mind telling you to lash out at something, though you had no outlet. The sadness would leave you catatonic, huddled on the couch or, in extreme cases, in a corner. 

On Tuesday, you woke up pissed as hell. 

"This'll be a shitshow," Undyne muttered to you as you marched through the forest together, "You sure you're good?"

"Oh yeah," you answered confidently while looking up at the tower looming closer. Asgore's brow was furrowed with concern, but he said nothing.

You thought maybe he wouldn't show his face. But, when you got up the stairs and into the tower, there he was. Reives was there, as always, along with Wolfe and Charlie. Your friend had his arms crossed while he shot Reives a look that could kill. Whatever words had been exchanged between them didn't seem to have bothered the agent, however. He sat in his usual spot with his back to Charlie, looking as composed as ever. When the three of you entered, he and Wolfe stood up to shake your hands.

"Good morning," he said, just like always. Asgore and Undyne took his hand but, when it came to your turn, you simply glared at them both and sat down. 

Left hanging, Reives curled his hand into a fist and took a seat. Wolfe, who looked confused, let her own hand drop awkwardly and followed suit. You got the immediate impression that she didn't know what had transpired. Reives straightened his files on the table and said,

"So, are there any alterations you would like to make in this week's supplies?"

"Really?" you snarled, your voice laced with venom, "Cut the shit. You know what we want to talk about." Ordinarily, there was no way Asgore would've let you get away with talking like that. Now, though, he simply folded his hands in front of him and stared Reives down. You hadn't considered how angry he might've been about Frisk being taken away, but now it was plain. 

"Alright," Reives acquiesced as he leaned forward and fixed you with an intense look, "Get it out. What do you want to say?"

" _I_ don't have anything to say. _You're_ the one who better have something real fucking convincing to say for yourself!" Wolfe glanced between you and Reives with an alarmed expression. Reives held up his hands, looking more exasperated than you'd ever seen him.

"Well, fine. Where do you want me to begin? You think you can get away with mistreating the child and expect no consequences?"

"I never-"

"You forget to feed them. You forget to pick them up from school. You make your home unsafe to live in. You keep them up all night listening to your fits." Your eyes widened as he ticked things off on his fingers. _You_ didn't even realize you'd done half of that stuff, how did he...? "I pity you, but the fact remains that you are unfit to care for a child."

You were shaken, but you continued with even more fervor than before, "Since... Since when did you care about Frisk's wellbeing? You're the one who took them away from their real parents, to begin with!" Reives pinched the bridge of his nose and spoke into his hand,

"The monsters who kidnapped them are not Frisk's real-"

"Excuse me," Asgore rumbled threateningly, "I would beg to differ."

Reives, as though just realizing who he was talking to, had enough sense to look abashed for a brief moment. He recovered quickly, though, and continued on,

"Frisk is doing well. They just moved into their new foster home today. I will personally make sure that their needs are met."

The more he talked, the more anger built up in your gut. The whispers told you to hit him. Instead, you struck the table with your fist.

"That's _not good enough!_ "

The _bang!_ of your hand hitting wood made everyone in the room flinch. Except for Reives, who seemed to have expected it. You pointed at him accusingly as you spoke in a voice that was starting to crack with strain,

"I _trusted_ you! Biggest mistake of my life..." That seemed to get to him more than anything previous. He scoffed at you and shook his head condescendingly.

"Oh, really? I have gone above and beyond for you. Have you already forgotten the guards? You ungrateful-"

" _Don't_ try to frame that as my problem... That's for _everyone's_ protection! I regret telling you about that. Sans and I could've handled it better ourselves!" Even in the heat of the moment, you knew that was untrue. But you also knew it would wound Reives' fragile pride, which it did. He laughed and looked away, still shaking his head. You could see sweat glistening on his brow. 

"Maybe if you didn't insist on keeping secrets from everyone who was trying to help you, none of this would've happened in the first place." Reives looked at Asgore and Undyne pointedly. You followed his gaze and saw identical looks of confusion on their faces. They were no longer keeping up with the thread of this argument. 

The whispers were starting to get unbearable. They wiggled in your mind like parasites, telling you to do awful things. There came a point where you didn't know which thoughts were your own and which were coming from elsewhere. Did you want to throw Reives off of the tower, or was that an intruder? Then again, if they were hallucinations, then the thoughts were _all_ coming from you...

Without realizing you were doing it, you clutched your head and stood up. Your cane, which had been resting between your knees, hit the ground loudly at the same time as the chair you'd been sitting on scraped across the wooden floor.

"You can't... _Don't_ you say that when you don't understand... You..." Your vision started to tunnel until all you could see was Reives' ugly face. 

"Hey..." Something touched your shoulder. You cried out and jerked away. The movement was so violent that you tripped and fell to the ground. Blackness surrounded you, swirling all around until you could see nothing else. Hear nothing else. It wound around you like tight chains, encircling your wrists and ankles and trying to pull them out to the sides. You let out a strangled sound as you fought to stay curled in the fetal position, your arms and legs covering your chest protectively. 

There were muffled sounds of people talking urgently around you, but you couldn't tell if they were real or part of the delusion. The nothingness churned angrily when it couldn't fully control you. 

"Back... Get back... Let me go..." you whispered pleadingly. It didn't retreat, but surged forward anew. Endless hands roved over your body... Clutching your hair, curling around your neck, and pulling your limbs. 

Suddenly, you felt something other than helplessness. The anger you'd been feeling toward Reives was redirected onto the vivid hallucination. A fiery fury built in the back of your brain and spread throughout your body. You shook with the force of it. It electrified your skin... Particularly, the right side of your face. So much so that it _hurt_. Your hands moved to cover the painful area as you rocked back and forth in agony. 

One voice broke through the blackness. It said,

"Let me try..."

"NO!"

You screamed, and the energy that pulsed through your body suddenly shot out in all directions. The explosion blasted everything around you backward, including the black smoke. The whispers shrieked wordlessly in your ears before evaporating. The pulse of energy quite literally rocked the foundation under you. The wooden guard tower groaned under the quake, but you didn't get to see what happened next. As soon as the hallucinations left, you felt yourself listing sideways.

You blacked out before your head hit the floor.

***

"Babe... Wake up..."

A high pitched sound rang in your ears, but that voice cut through it like butter. Other people were talking around you, though it took you a moment for their muddled speech to become clear enough for you to make out.

"...think it was an earthquake?"

"Musta been. Didn't you feel the ground shake?"

"It was. I felt it from camp. I was scared the tower might fall..."

That last voice was Sans again. Slowly, you became aware of your position. You were lying awkwardly on the floor, leaning sideways against a body who you knew to be Sans. You tried to open your eyes, but were blinded by white sunlight. You groaned and shut them tightly again.

"I think they hit their head."

"They were having some kind of fit before the earthquake. You should take them somewhere quiet until they calm down."

Reives. His voice made bile rise in the back of your throat, but you were too exhausted to feel even a fraction of the hot fury from before. Your head pounded and your muscles ached as though you had been running a marathon. 

"We should all probably get off of the tower. I don't like the sound it was making... It may be unsafe."

"I think that would be wise, Agent Wolfe. Let us postpone this meeting for another day."

There was some shuffling as people hurried to get back to solid ground. You heard heavy footsteps approach before a large hand settled on your back.

"Sans..." Asgore whispered, but Sans cut him off,

"Yeah, I know. I felt it. Let's just get 'em outta here first."

You tried to open your eyes again, and were marginally more successful this time. You squinted up at Sans until his face came into sharper focus. Noticing that you were awake, he smiled tensely down at you. 

"Hey. Took ya long enough." You groaned again, then used the wall behind you to push yourself into a straighter seated position. Your head swam with the motion. 

"What happened?" you asked while rubbing your forehead with your free hand. You remembered the blackness, the burning in your face, the sudden release of energy...

"We'll talk about it in a bit. First, let's getcha somewhere safe." He leaned over you to grab your cane, which he placed in your right hand for you. Using that plus Sans' arm around you, you were able to leverage yourself up onto your feet. It felt like the floor was swaying under you, but Sans kept you steady so you didn't fall back down.

"Hope you don't mind, but we're gonna take a shortcut," Sans said over his shoulder, where you presumed Asgore and Undyne were. "Meetcha at our house."

"Of course," the King said and, with that, Sans pulled you one step forward. 

Suddenly, you were somewhere else. Your living room, though it took you a moment longer than it should've to recognize the interior of your new house. Between leaning on Sans and your cane, you hardly put any weight on your legs at all as you walked over to the couch. Sans lowered you onto the cushions gently, then sat down next to you all in one motion.

"How do you feel?" he asked, sounding both concerned and simply curious. You touched your head gingerly before replying,

"Nauseous. Tired. What happened?" Sans blinked at you dumbly.

"You... Really don't know?" You shook your head, which was a bad idea. It made your stomach roil. Sans rubbed the back of his neck, chuckled incredulously, then finally answered you,

"Judgin' by all of those shiny new shortcuts in the Northwest tower, I'd say an impressive bit of magic was what happened."

It was your turn to stare at him blankly. You weren't sure if you were really understanding correctly, or if it was just your delerous mind putting words in Sans' mouth.

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked. Sans spoke a little slower as he explained,

"I was sittin' right here when I felt something big goin' down." He tapped the back of his skull with his finger. Instantly, you related it to the tingling feeling you always felt in the back of your mind whenever he opened a shortcut nearby. "When I got to the tower, there were loads of new shortcuts that weren't there before. I actually used one of 'em to get us back here. It had to be you, am I right?"

" _New_ shortcuts?" you repeated, stunned. There was no such thing as a new shortcut. They were always just there, never created or destroyed. They remained unchanged even through countless resets. But then, you remembered...

"That's how you got outta the void, isn't it?" Sans inquired in a low whisper. "I've been wonderin' about that... You just made a new shortcut for yourself and walked right out, huh?"

It didn't seem like it should be possible. You hadn't displayed any signs of being able to do magic since returning to your own body, and not for lack of trying. You remembered what it felt like to wield magic as Orion, and you'd tried to replicate it in your human body to no avail. What you'd done up in the tower felt... Comparable, yet undeniably different. But to go around _creating_ shortcuts seemed unthinkable. Although, how else could you explain the shortcut appearing in the void? A shortcut that _you_ could see? You hadn't really questioned it until now. 

"I... guess..." you said slowly. Your hand moved to touch the right side of your face near your eye. That was where you'd felt the burning. It felt normal now. Sans covered your hand with his.

"It's okay. Better, actually. I thought..." he hesitated, as though debating whether or not to continue. After a heartbeat, he did. "I thought maybe Gaster let you back out on purpose. Like it was part of the plan, or something."

"No!" you exclaimed, "No, that's not it at all." You felt bad that Sans had ever thought that. How... Terrifying. You should've been forthcoming about your escape from the start.

Sans flashed you a relieved smile before changing the subject, "I think I managed to convince the humans that it was just an earthquake. They don't need to know what you can do."

That wasn't what you had been worried about, though you nodded along numbly. 

"Everyone else, though..."

Right on cue, a knock sounded at your door. Sans got up to answer it. Panicked, you reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Wait! What're we gonna tell them?" Sans raised his brow at you.

"Gonna have to be the truth, babe. Asgore knows magic when he sees it... I wouldn't try to pull one over on him. Same with Undyne." Reluctantly, you let Sans go. He was right, but you were worried how they would react...

"OH MY GOD!" Undyne burst through the door as soon as Sans unlocked it. "YOU CAN DO MAGIC?!?" She bounded over to you and jumped on the couch where Sans had been sitting. You scooted backward and laughed nervously.

"Uh... Yeah. I guess." Undyne slapped your shoulder. Sans frowned disapprovingly.

"Congrats, dude! I didn't think humans could do magic anymore! Speaking of which... What _did_ you do, exactly?"

"Just made some shortcuts," you muttered to the floor, "No big deal."

Maybe you couldn't get away with lying about the magic you'd used, but Asgore and Undyne didn't know anything about how shortcuts worked. They didn't have to know how big of a deal it was that you were able to make them out of nothing. And many at once, if Sans wasn't exaggerating...

"Oh. Cool!" Undyne exclaimed, thankfully not understanding the weight of what you'd done. 

Finally, Asgore walked past the threshold. He sat down on top of the coffee table, which put him across from you and Undyne. He had a serious, sobering expression on his face. 

"I am not entirely surprised by your ability to do magic. Many humans were capable of it before the war; there is no reason to think that some of them could not still do it now, under the right circumstances." He glanced briefly at Sans, who stood a ways away with his hands in his pockets. Asgore turned back to you and continued, "What concerns me is what preceded the use of magic."

You felt your face heat up, and not in the way it had when you'd made the shortcuts. You didn't regret arguing with Reives; he'd deserved everything you'd said to him, and more. But you were embarrassed about how you'd freaked out in front of everyone. You weren't even completely sure what you'd done, you'd been so out of it. When you had nothing to say for yourself, Asgore sighed deeply.

"I understand that you have gone through a difficult time, and it is not something you are willing to confide in me about." Your heart ached with how resigned he sounded. You couldn't look at him; you stared at your own knees instead. "Being the sole ambassador is a tough job, as you know well by now. I do not want to weigh you down with that responsibility when you are already struggling. I think it would be best if you stepped down for now... Would you agree?"

Your eyes stung tearfully, but it would have been unfair to Asgore for you to let them fall. He was trying to do what was best for you, though you couldn't help but feel like this was just another dip in your continuing downward spiral. Slowly, everything that you considered _you_ was being stripped away, and you couldn't stop it from happening. Because you couldn't argue with Asgore. You couldn't keep having violent fits at meetings like that, especially now that you knew you could do magic. It was dangerous, and you couldn't guarantee it wouldn't happen again. So you had no choice but to agree.

"Yeah. You're right," you said in a blank, hopeless monotone. The resulting silence in the room felt heavy. Eventually, Asgore reached over to pat you on the shoulder.

"We will talk about this again when you feel you are ready to return. Until then... Please get better." He sounded almost pained. You nodded even though, privately, you thought that was an impossibility. 

With nothing else to say, Asgore and Undyne left. You remained where they'd left you sitting morosely on the couch. Sans reclaimed his spot next to you, wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and pulled you into him.

"It'll get better," he said.

You were starting to think he might be wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesterday (July 6th) was the day that Reed and Sans went on their second first date... and Sans agreed to kill Reed. So that means today begins the week of Reed trying to do fun things with everyone before they get snuffed. The more you know.


	40. The Grave of Mad Carew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure you've read the previous chapter first... It was posted pretty recently!

Your magical outburst left spindly cracks in the legs of the Northwest tower. For now, it was unsafe for anyone to be up there. Until it got fixed, Charlie was relegated to Hernandez's old post... the Northeast tower. That was where future meetings would be held, too.

Not that you were going to them. With no Frisk and no job, you now had absolutely nothing to do. In some ways, maybe it was for the best. You couldn't screw things up with your hallucinations and general insanity if there was nothing _to_ screw up.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. You still managed to screw Sans' life up pretty bad. As much as he insisted you weren't a bother, it was plain to see that you were throwing a wrench in his life at least a little. He had to start declining Alphys' requests for help in the lab because, between looking out for you and running errands for the guards, he was too busy. And those errands had to be whittled down to the bare minimum, too. Sans only ever left your side to bring supplies to Samuelsson, who had no other way of getting food or water. Everyone else was able to cope without their teleporting assistant.

Though he was seemingly committed to never leaving you alone, Sans clearly didn't know what to do with you. You didn't blame him... You didn't know what to do with yourself. Sans tried to find ways to prevent your outbursts, but there were just too many things that could set you off. Catching a glimpse of your reflection, being left alone for too long, being crowded by too many people, hearing a phone ring... And many times, you couldn't pinpoint any particular cause. One minute you'd be reading or playing a board game, and the next you'd be staring, unresponsive, at the floor. Or hiding from hallucinations, screaming and fighting off anyone who tried to snap you out of it. It was exhausting.

You did, however, have one trick up your sleeve that seemed to work intermittently. Your magic. Sometimes, when you were seeing things, you'd get either so angry or so afraid that the tingling sensation started up in your brain again. This chased away the hallucinations for at least a little while, though there were several problems with this tactic. One was that you had little control over it. Sometimes it would happen, and sometimes it wouldn't. You couldn't seem to call on the magic at will.

The other issue was that, to be honest, it kind of scared you. Perhaps you could've practiced the magic until you had better control over it. But, the minute you felt the tingling starting, you instinctively fought to tamp it down. You didn't want a repeat of what had happened in the tower... You could've really hurt someone. 

It wasn't like your efforts to stop the magic did any good, however. You had no control over when it started _or_ when it stopped; the force inside of you did what it was going to do. There was no redirecting it. Thankfully, it never manifested as anything in the outside world after Tuesday's incident. It just buzzed around in your brain, scaring you with its presence while simultaneously helping you chase off the hallucinations. You didn't know what to think about it, though you supposed it didn't much matter what you thought. It was going to happen regardless of how you felt.

Truly, you were a wreck. You had enough self-awareness left to know that. That was why your only request to Sans was that he not let you spend too much time in the presence of your friends. Anything more than a short, half-hour visit left you worried that you would do something disturbing in front of them that would drive them away. You didn't want them to know more than they already did.

Otherwise, you just followed along with whatever Sans suggested you do. It was a drastic departure from how the two of you usually functioned. In the past, you'd always been the leader. Sans was the follower. Not anymore, though... If you had it your way, you'd just sit, docile, in your room for the rest of your life. Sans was left struggling to come up with ways to get you out of the house without risking exposing you to something potentially triggering.

You took a lot of walks. Through New Home sometimes, but mostly through the woods behind your house. The forest was quiet without being _too_ quiet. Your mind was at its clearest when you were out in nature, and Sans picked up on that quickly. The only thing that stopped him from taking you outside 24/7 was that you tired easily. Plagued by constant nightmares, you didn't sleep much, and the lack of rest made your legs more painful than usual.

During one of these walks, you got to thinking about Frisk. You thought about them a lot... Where they were, and what they might be doing right at that moment. The poor kid hadn't had a choice in any of this. They lived most of their life being controlled by other people; be it you through the game of Undertale, or Chara through their own mind. You could empathize with that. You hoped Chara wasn't giving them too much trouble. You worried that, now that their life was so unstable, they might not have as tight a leash on the demon in their head.

Keeping with the theme of your life, there wasn't much you could do other than hope for the best. You were pretty much resigned to the fact that you weren't going to get Frisk back, at this point. There would be no court date unless you appealed, and the window of time for that was quickly slipping away. You had to be honest with yourself... You didn't think you could handle a legal battle right now. You were too tired. If there was any hope of winning, you would force yourself to give it a shot. But there wasn't, so it would've been stupid to make yourself go through all of that for nothing.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Sans asked, interrupting your train of thought. At some point, you had stopped walking and sat down on the forest floor. You didn't remember doing that. You were leaning backward on the trunk of a big tree while Sans laid down across from you, lounging on top of a fallen log. He was picking the white fluff off of a dandelion, flicking the seeds into the air absentmindedly as he went. You watched them get caught by the light, spring breeze, which carried them away out of sight.

"Frisk." You turned your face toward the breeze and squinted your eyes. The wind caught your hair and whipped it around. Your hair had just recently returned to its usual length after the last time you'd shaved it. It just barely tickled your ears... Long enough to run your hands through, but not long enough for them to ever get tangled in it. 

Sans grunted, but didn't have anything to say on the matter. He kept picking at the flower until it was down to a nub, then frowned at it as though just realizing what he'd done. He shrugged and tossed the stem aside callously. 

While silence reigned, you went back to thinking about Frisk. In your head, you ran through the argument with Reives. You had to wonder if you'd done the wrong thing by antagonizing him. Maybe, if you'd approached the conversation more meekly, you could've convinced him to change his mind and give you back custody of Frisk. But, then again, this was _Reives_ you were talking about. After yourself, he was the most stubborn person you knew. From the moment CPS showed up at your door, it was probably already too late to have done anything about it.

Now that your emotions about the situation had died down somewhat, you had to admit that Reives had a couple of good points. The thing about the secrets was what really got to you. Maybe he was right... Maybe, if you had been upfront about Gaster from the start, you would've never gotten yourself into this situation. If, as Orion, you'd recruited help from your friends to find Gaster's entries, things would certainly be a lot different now. Maybe better, maybe worse. You would never know... Just like you didn't know if you were still making things worse by continuing to keep your secrets.

"Sans... Do you think we should tell people about Gaster?" You knew the question would seem to come out of nowhere, but it felt important to ask. Sans nearly fell off of his log, but righted himself before he did.

"No." He shot you a quizzical look. "We've talked about this. S'not safe for them to know."

You dropped your gaze and hummed in agreement, but without much conviction. The whispers, which usually didn't bother you in the forest, started slithering down to you from the rustling leaves. They told you not to talk. Don't say anything to anyone.

You didn't like that they were agreeing with Sans.

"Can we go back inside?" you asked suddenly. Anything to get away from the whispers... Though you knew, deep down, they would always follow you.

***

After that, you couldn't get it out of your head. That you should be saying something... Telling someone _anything_. There were so many things you could say, but the whispers didn't want it. Every time you considered speaking up, they smothered you with fear and self-loathing. But the whispers were bad... Shouldn't you do the opposite of what they said?

Sans didn't want you to say anything to your friends, so you wouldn't. But you could talk to Sans, himself. You could tell him anything... That was what he said. Whenever you tried, though, you'd clam up. The more you failed, the more you wanted to succeed. Stubborn. 

The closest you managed to get was the day after your brief conversation in the forest. You and Sans had taken to trying to teach each other your respective studies. You each knew some of the basics from having shared memories, but complicated stuff like that didn't translate well, even across a soul-deep bond. So Sans walked you through his quantum physics textbook; a level up from the one you'd read while you were confined to his house in the previous timeline. At the same time, you gathered up your biology, psychology, and chemistry books and explained to Sans the parts that he still didn't understand after having read through them on his own.

It was while the two of you were working on practice problems that you had a breakthrough. Randomly, you blurted out,

"I don't like it when you touch my head. That's what Gaster did whenever he took control of my body."

It was one of the more benign admissions you could've made, but still a huge deal. You guessed you only got away with it because of how spontaneous it was. Sans' pen stilled on the page. He blinked, then looked up at you with wide eyes. 

By the time he processed what you'd said, you were already deep in your own hell. Angry, black smoke swirled around you, pressing in on you from all directions. The whispers, which were usually quiet at the edge of your awareness, were loud and in-your-face. You cried out and slid off of the couch and onto the floor. 

This time, your magic came to the rescue. It flared in your mind and chased the furious presence away. Sans was at your side in an instant, but it was already over before he could do anything.

"I'm okay... I'm okay..." you reassured him. Usually, he would've put a comforting hand on your back, but you noticed that he refrained this time.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. You sat up and put a hand over your chest, feeling your racing heart as it settled back down. 

"Yeah... Sorry..."

"Don't be sorry. I'm the one who should apologize." Sans knelt on his own hands, a dismayed expression on his face. "I've been makin' you uncomfortable this whole time..."

It was usually the other way around but, this time, you reached out to him. You pushed him backward gently until he was sitting, which freed his hands from under his knees. You took one of his hands in your own and clarified,

"Not... the whole time. You can still touch me. I want you to." For emphasis, you drew him closer to you and put his hand on your cheek. "...Just not the top of my head, please."

The tension in Sans' jaw released. His shoulders slumped, and a small, tentative smile appeared on his face.

"'Course. Whatever you need." He leaned in and pressed a skeleton kiss to your lips, though he didn't caresse the back of your head like he usually would have. 

It was better.

***

You wanted to tell him more, but it wasn't easy. Not only did the intruder in your mind not want you to, but it made you nervous, yourself. The head thing was fine, but how could you even begin to tell Sans the more difficult stuff? You actively tried not to think about it. It didn't even feel real to you anymore. You were afraid the reality of it would crash down on you once you started talking.

The less sure you were about it, the more opportunity it gave the whispers to smother you before you could start to say anything. You tried a couple of times, but broke down into a bumbling mess without communicating anything of substance.

You needed to try a different tactic. There was one other thing you could do...

One night, while you and Sans were getting ready for bed, you decided to try.

"I've been thinking..." You pushed yourself up onto one elbow and faced Sans where he sat on the edge of the mattress, taking his socks off. He finished and swung his legs up on the bed, turning to mimic your position. 

"I should hope so," he teased, which brought a smile to your face. You took a deep breath and sat up straight with your back propped against the wall. The bedsheets fell from your torso and pooled on your lap. You rubbed your palm over your sternum before continuing,

"I... think you're right about how I... need to start talking about what happened. You and everyone else," you muttered that last bit. You were thinking about Reives, specifically, though almost everyone you knew seemed to share the same sentiment. You shifted uncomfortably, but soldiered on, "...But it's too hard. I feel like there's something stopping me, and I don't know if there really is... Or if I'm just making it up." You gathered up a fistful of sheets and squeezed.

"I think it would be easier to just show you."

Sans understood what you were about to do. Slack-jawed, he scrambled to sit up straight. He reached out to you halfway, then aborted the motion and let his arm fall. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest. You could feel its frantic thudding under your palm. At the last minute, you weren't sure if you could do it. A little voice whispered that you shouldn't... That it was shameful. Something to keep hidden. Something to fear. 

But you couldn't keep living like that. If you ever wanted to get better, you had to just bite the bullet and do this. Because, if you couldn't face Sans, then you didn't think you'd ever be able to face yourself.

With that in mind, you steeled yourself, closed your eyes, and pulled your hand away from your chest. You heard the clicks and felt your soul leave your body, but you didn't want to watch. You didn't want to see Sans' first reaction. You heard his breath catch... Heard the silence in the room as he stopped breathing. Then, finally, the rush of air as he let out the breath he'd been holding. Only then did you open your eyes to look for yourself.

The last time you saw your soul, it was when you were half-delirious and out of your mind with fear. Now, you could confirm that you hadn't been seeing things wrong or making anything up. It looked just the same as you remembered. A white exterior with a thick, vile, black core. The black continued to churn sluggishly, disgusting you with its unnatural, slimy consistency. The portion of Sans' soul that was trapped with it had stopped racing around and trying to get away. Instead, it now held deathly still while the black storm raged under it. Resigned, tired, or a combination of both.

It was framed by Sans' silhouette, whose stunned expression was lit by the soul's faint, white glow.

"I didn't... didn't want... I don't... _like_ it..." you spluttered, not even sure what you were trying to say. With one hand, you wiped away the tears falling from your eyes while the other was held out, palm up, under your mutilated soul. Like you were offering it up for Sans' judgment. 

Careful not to touch the soul, Sans reached for your wrist and pulled your arm down. He held your hand in his and rubbed your palm with his thumb.

"How... How did this happen?" His voice sounded raw and shaky. "What happened to..." He couldn't finish the question. His eyes kept flicking up to look at you, then back down. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the soul for more than a second, as if it were some kind of gruesome horror movie that he just couldn't stop watching.

"I want to show you," you repeated, then reached out with your tear-soaked hand to press your palm against Sans' sternum.

His eyes widened. Almost as though it were a reflex, he grabbed your other wrist and jerked it down to join the first. He stared at your two hands, which were now clenched tightly in his. He said nothing, but the message was clear.

He didn't want to share souls.

He was disgusted by you.

Your breath hitched with sudden, uncontrollable sobs. Your soul snapped closer to your chest, though it didn't fully sink back into you. You wished it would... Anything to get it out of sight. But it didn't seem to want to obey your will. So out it stayed, laid bare as you hunched over it. Your tears fell onto its semi-solid, heart-shaped form, tickling it in a way that would've felt funny if you weren't too upset to notice.

You felt like you'd been cut. Just that one gesture from Sans was enough to bring whatever meager self-confidence you'd built up over the past few days crashing down. You were nothing, and you felt it. Whatever intrinsic worth you'd once possessed had been scooped out and stolen from you. Not even Sans wanted you anymore, and you couldn't blame him. You didn't want you, either.

"Wait, no..." Sans spoke between your gasping breaths. Your chest and throat hurt from the force of them, but you couldn't stop. Using his grip on your wrists, Sans pulled you closer to him. You leaned forward compliantly, but the press of his forehead against yours did nothing to slow your cries.

He said something else, but it was too quiet for you to hear over the choking sounds of your own harsh breaths. When you didn't respond, he released your wrists and pushed you back so you were leaning against the wall again. Now that you had your hands back, you used one to cover your face and the other to shield your soul from view. You didn't want him to have to see...

Just then, you were shocked into silence by the sound of three more clicks. From the cracks between your fingers, you could see that the light in the room had brightened considerably. It even had a faint, lavender tint to it.

The color, more than anything, was what made you uncover your eyes. You were met with the most beautiful sight. Sans' soul... Completely unchanged by the events of the past few weeks. The white and purple... The purple...

That was _you_. There was still a piece of you alive and untouched in him. Of course, you'd known that, but it was another thing to see it. It was _right there_. 

You caught yourself reaching out to it long before your fingers made contact, but the involuntary movement still disturbed you. You couldn't touch it... It was too good for you. But it was _yours_. The contradictory emotions chased each other around in your brain to no end.

Now that you were quiet, Sans could finally get a word in edgewise. He cleared his throat, which caused your damp eyes to snap up to meet his own. 

"Go on. Show me."

You shook your head and lowered your gaze. You couldn't believe that he really meant it. The obvious, reactionary panic on his face when you'd first made your intent clear proved to you that he didn't actually want to do this. His current stoney expression wasn't convincing you now. 

"You don't want to," you whispered, your voice rough and crackly. 

"Yes, I do," he insisted. He reached out a hand to touch your face, tilting your head up so you had to meet his gaze. Again, you complied, letting him maneuver you however he saw fit. 

"I wanna know what happened. And if this is how you need to tell me, then... Go for it."

He didn't know what he was saying. Now that you were this close, it was beginning to strike you how cruel it was to tell him this way. He'd have to relive it all with you. You couldn't sugarcoat anything this way. Maybe that was why he'd reacted the way he did... Not because he was disgusted, but because he was afraid.

But you still felt this was the only way you could tell him. And if he wanted to know that bad...

You searched his face and saw nothing but determination. You felt it, too. You would get through this, and deal with the rest on the other side.

Without further ado, you surged forward and wrapped your arms around Sans' neck. Your soul lurched forward, too, and collided with Sans' eagerly.

Just like that, the visions began.

The memories started right at the beginning of the end. It was where both of your heads were at. From a third-person perspective, you watched Gaster touch your forehead. You saw yourself straighten up and turn around, a blank expression on your face. Your glassy eyes stared ahead unseeingly. Sans knew right away that there was something terribly wrong with you.

"Come now, Sans. I refuse to fight you... There is no need for it. Leave now, of your own volition, or I will be forced to throw you out again."

Horrified, Sans watched you move in sync with Gaster, stepping aside to reveal the void's only exit. Sparks of magic crackled once at his fingertips, but quickly fizzled out and died. He was out of juice. He didn't know it then, but he had already lost the moment Gaster laid his hands on you.

"What... did you do... to them?"

The memory changed.

"Since the two of you need no introduction, I am sure you would not mind sharing a living space."

Hernandez's dead body stared right through you. You saw it all over again, as though for the first time. Fear coarsed through your veins with every frantic beat of your heart. You huddled in the corner and screamed and screamed and screamed...

But nobody came.

The memory changed.

Sans screamed. And screamed. And screamed. He pounded on the wall, on the floor, and on other people who tried to stop him. No amount of violence brought him back to you. 

Someone eventually called Toriel, who managed to coax him back to her house. He wasn't conscious of that at the time, but his memory dredged it back up now. She asked him what had happened, where you were, why he had hurt those people...

He didn't know. He didn't have the answers. All he wanted was to get back to you, but he couldn't. _Need to get to you, can't get to you, need to get to you, can't get to you, need to get-_

The memory changed.

Gaster made you follow him. He made you strip in front of the mirror, put on a hospital gown, and lie on the table.

Those were the facts, but they didn't tell the whole story. They didn't tell of the terror. Didn't mention the absolute, all-consuming hopelessness you felt as you completed these ritualistic tasks that would culminate in your own calculated destruction. They spoke nothing of how, as Gaster kept talking, you came to the dawning realization that you were about to die. 

You didn't want to die.

The memory changed.

Through Sans' eyes, you relived yourself reappearing in the barn, as though out of thin air. Little did he know that the joy he felt in that moment would be so short-lived. 

Days passed by in a blur. Sans watched you crumble slowly, bit-by-bit. Every day he thought, _Maybe this'll be the day things start to get better._ But they never did. You only got worse. 

He had to do something about it.

The memory changed.

It was here that your memories lagged behind Sans'. Where his flicked by quickly, yours dragged on endlessly. You were stuck in the void, unable to move past it. Fitting, you supposed. 

In the present moment, you braced yourself. You knew this was where it would start to get difficult to stomach. You didn't know how right you were until you relived how it felt when Gaster took out your soul and touched it. It got a little disorienting as you watched yourself watching your own past memories, which were sped up to the point where they were nothing but blurs of color and bursts of feelings.

But when that was over... You felt Gaster holding your soul all over again. You heard yourself pleading with him to let go. You felt Sans squirm as he was forced to feel and hear it all, too.

The memory changed.

"Yo, Reives," Sans called out as he walked over to the agent, who was being led around by a mouse-like monster. Everyone, including the cameraman, turned to look at Sans as he approached.

Strangely, you felt Sans rebuke against this memory. He tamped it down, choking it and forcing it back... Much like how you tried to hide the memory of getting Sans his birthday present so long ago. His attempts to hide this memory now worked about as well as it had for you back then. He was successful, but you could easily tell what he was doing.

With Sans smothering his own thoughts, the ball was thrown back in your court. The memory changed...

"Farewell, my dear."

Pain. God, the _worst_ pain. You couldn't... You couldn't... 

It tore at you all over again, like knives stabbing you in places you hadn't thought it possible to reach. Tearing off limbs that you didn't know you had. Clawing in your chest and scooping things out indiscriminately. In the real world, you could hear the combined screams of you and Sans as the fresh agony cut through you both anew. 

You pushed it down. _Anything_ to stop the pain. You reached for Sans' mind. Scrabbled at the walls he'd put up. He was too distracted by the second-hand torture to keep them in place...

...The memory changed.

"Yes?" Reives asked, clearly already annoyed. Sans sauntered up with his hands in his pockets.

"Got somethin' I need to tell you. In private," he clarified, staring pointedly at the agent's two companions. Reives rolled his eyes. Rude.

"I am rather busy, as you can see." The human tried to step around Sans, but he side-stepped to block his way. Reives was close enough now that Sans had to tilt his head back to look up at him.

"It's important." Reives searched him up and down, then finally said,

"Fine. Let's take a walk."

As this memory played out, you felt Sans scrambling to push it away again. However, his effort lacked conviction. He didn't want you to see this, but he didn't want to go back to your memories, either. He was still shaking from them, and he knew they were far from over. It was worth it to keep you from finding out, but self-preservation prevented him from putting up an effective wall.

You only got a brief flash of pain this time... A glimpse of Gaster's broken face before you were back to Sans' memory.

Sans and Reives walked down the road until they were far away from the busy sounds of hammers and drills. The setting sun cast long shadows on the pavement. Neither of them said anything until they reached the end of the line. The road stopped at the edge of a big cliff, which dipped down sharply into a tree-covered slope. 

"What is it that's so important?" Reives asked while Sans stared at the scenery. "Let me guess... Is it something about our ambassador?" He looked up at the human sharply.

"How didja know?" Reives shrugged.

"They make up at least ninety percent of your personality, from what I can tell."

Ouch. Sans hadn't been burned so bad since you insulted his crocs. It might as well have been water off a duck's back, though... He didn't much care what Reives thought of him.

"Well, it is about them..." Sans kicked a stone under his foot. It went flying down the cliff, then disappeared among the trees. "I need you to do me a favor."

"What?"

"...I need you to take Frisk away from them."

...

You felt like you'd been punched in the gut.

_No... It's not what it looks like._

"...Why's that?" Reives asked.

 _I was trying to help you..._ Sans tried to talk over himself, but his past self's damning words rang out all too clearly in your head.

"They're not doin' well. Something that happened... It screwed with their head. I'm not sure what, exactly, but they ain't right."

This time, you were the one who pushed back against the vision. You shoved it out of your mind, not thinking about the alternative that was waiting for you...

The memory changed.

...He was ripping you apart. You screamed yourself hoarse, but nothing stopped him from taking _everything_ from you. He bled you dry, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell where you used to be.

You would never be the same.

You wanted to die.

The memory changed.

"...They forget to feed 'em, forget to pick 'em up for school, and keep 'em up all night with their... issues. They're not fit to take care of a kid. And... Well. I need them back here so _I_ can take care of _them._ "

Reives listened to Sans' case impassively. When he was done, the agent looked out at the trees and thought for a moment. Slowly, he nodded.

"I'll look into it. If it's as bad as you say it is, then you're right. The child should be removed." Sans ground his teeth together. He looked out at the trees with Reives, watching the sun set over the distant skyscrapers of Ebott City. 

"Can you, uh... Not mention this to anyone? I know it's a lot to ask you to take the fall, but there's a bunch of people who'll be real upset with me if they found out I told you this..." Reives chuckled and scuffed the toe of his shoe on the ground.

"Sure. They already distrust me, so I doubt it will make much of a difference." Sans' shoulders slumped in relief.

"And, um... I might hafta teleport to their place at some point..." Reives waved him off briskly, as though he were starting to get annoyed.

"Yes, fine. Do what you must, as long as I don't hear about it later."

"Cool." Sans hesitated, then, not knowing how else to end the conversation, held out his hand awkwardly. "Thanks for this." Reives took the offered hand.

Through all of this, devastation and panic built up in your mind. You had to get out... You didn't want to see this. But you couldn't go back to your own memories. You couldn't face them... Couldn't _trust_ him with them now that you knew...

_BANG!_

You were jarred out of the visions entirely. You didn't remember hitting the floor, but that was where you ended up. Somehow, even neck-deep in the memories, you'd managed to separate your soul from Sans' by throwing yourself off of the bed. 

You became aware of this just in time to see your soul get sucked back into your chest. This time, it just felt wrong. The whole damn thing. It was parasitic... You hated it.

"Are you... Wait!" Sans started, but couldn't finish his question before you were on your feet and out of the room. You felt physically ill. You had to sprint to the bathroom to get yourself above the toilet before you threw up.

Never before had you cried at the same time as you vomited, but there was a first time for everything. You slumped helplessly over the toilet as tears and sick mixed together in the bowl. First, you threw up your dinner... Then stomach acid... Then just spit. Dry heaves continued to rock your body even when you had nothing left to give. 

Eventually, it stopped. You were left shaking like a leaf, your skin pale and clammy. You gasped in deep lungfuls of air, but its movement through your acid-burned throat stung terribly. The rattling exhales were no better. Thinking about the physical pains was easier than trying to process what had just happened, though.

You didn't notice Sans was behind you until he reached over and flushed the toilet. You looked up at him blankly. The moment your eyes met, he started stammering,

"God, I'm sorry... I was... I was just tryin' to help. You needed to come home, but you _wouldn't leave_... You weren't getting better there... I just... I needed to give you a reason to come back..."

His bones clattered with anxiety. The tense, wide-eyed, almost crazed expression looked so foreign on him. His constricted pupils kept darting in his eye sockets as he looked between your face and your chest. Sweat glistened on his skull and arms. He was shaking almost as bad as you. 

The full weight of the situation crashed down on you. Sans had taken Frisk away... Your kid. Sans had taken _your kid_ away from you. He went against your wishes and... 

Was this just karma coming back to bite you in the ass? With the number of times you'd made decisions that Sans didn't like... But this was... Something else. Did those little things even come close to measuring up to this?

Kneeling on the bathroom floor, staring up at Sans... You realized something. You realized that this shouldn't have come as a surprise to you. Problems on this scale... They didn't appear one day out of nowhere. Codependency like this didn't happen overnight. It started from the moment you said "hello," and only careened downhill from there. But now, you were in too deep to fix it. Sans needed you, and you needed Sans, and you hadn't even noticed that it was a problem until now. Toriel had tried to tell you... Tried to tell Sans, anyway. But other than that, no one had questioned it. Why didn't anyone warn you...?

But you weren't angry. You didn't have it in you to be mad at Sans. Sans, who now knew more or less everything that had happened to you. He was just as much a victim in all of this as you were. He couldn't help the psychotic, starving _need_ that you knew he still felt for you. He always hid behind concern for your health when, deep down, all of his pleading for you to come back to camp with him was a result of your intertwined souls. He would find any excuse to keep you with him.

You listed sideways and fell into Sans, though you took no comfort in his arms around you, nor the whispered reassurances he murmured into your deaf ears. 

You were just too tired of all of this to care anymore.


	41. You Know What They Say About Good Intentions

This was it... You were giving up. You were in a hole that was too deep to climb out of. The more you tried, the further down you fell. 

The only way you could think to keep from slipping even further was to stop trying altogether.

You stopped counting the days.

You stopped fighting the hallucinations.

You stopped caring.

The sad thing was that nothing changed much. You kept on following Sans around, doing whatever he was doing. You stayed right by his side. What else could you do? You felt like you'd been skinned raw from the betrayal, but you had nowhere else to go. You couldn't ask for help from anyone else. Everyone who you opened up to ended up letting you down, and you didn't want to take that risk anymore. You were certain you couldn't handle more heartache. 

Besides... It wasn't like you could tell anyone about what Sans had done, even if you wanted to. He was right when he'd told Reives that everyone would be upset with him if they found about about what he'd done. Toriel, especially, could never know that one of her best friends had deliberately caused her child to be taken away from her yet again. You loved Sans too much to let that get out.

So you kept following, and Sans kept leading. Only now, you didn't talk. You said words, sure, but you didn't _talk_ to each other anymore. Your conversations all went the same way.

"Whaddya wanna do today?"

"Whatever you want."

"No, really. You pick."

"It doesn't matter to me."

"...Wanna go for a walk?"

"Sure."

That was about as deep as it ever went. You thought for sure Sans would try to get you to talk about it... About what he saw in your memories. But he didn't. You supposed you'd both learned a lesson from all of this. 

Some things were better left unspoken.

Whenever Sans had to leave to run supplies back and forth from the barn, it was always an ordeal. More than ever before, you felt like you _needed_ to be by Sans at all times. You started to develop a tremor whenever you lost physical contact with him. And when he was out of your sight? You were all but guaranteed to be overwhelmed by hallucinations. All Sans could do was wrap you in his hoodie and promise to return as fast as he could.

You didn't want to see anyone other than Sans anymore. Whenever he suggested visiting anyone, you would just kind of... crumple in on yourself. You never outright refused to do anything he proposed, but you supposed it was pretty clear by how you clung to his shirt and stared blankly at the floor that you didn't like the idea of talking to other people. 

He never forced you to. Since he couldn't go anywhere alone without you losing your mind, Sans was confined to solitude, too. You saw him texting people a lot, though. You didn't ask who or what about.

You didn't share souls again. Neither of you had the gall to suggest it. But, privately... You kind of wanted to. Even though you'd been the one to break it off last time. Now that you'd seen Sans' soul, there was something... alluring about it. There was something he had that you desperately needed. You felt like, if you could just hold it in your hands again, maybe it would make you feel whole. If only for a fraction of a second.

With nothing else to do, you thought about it constantly. His soul came to consume your every waking thought. Even the whispers talked about it. They told you it was yours... More so than the soul that was inside your own body. You agreed. The thin lining of purple in Sans' soul was all that was left of you in this world. 

Eventually, your desperation overcame your apathy. After many days of never asking for anything, you finally initiated a conversation.

"Can I see your soul?"

You were lying sideways against Sans, who had a book resting on his lap. He had a habit of tracing the words with his finger as he read them. You used to think it was cute. Now, his finger stilled on the page. 

"Why?"

You fidgeted, leaning further into him. You rested your chin on his shoulder and peered down at his chest while starting to scratch your own fretfully. You knew you were reopening old wounds, never giving your skin the chance to heal... But you didn't care.

"Just wanna see it."

Sans peered over at you out of the corner of his eye. His expression was unreadable.

"No."

The simple refusal left no room for argument. He went back to his book, his finger starting up again on the page. However, you were pretty sure he was faking it. His finger moved too smoothly, never hovering over a thoughtful line or turn of phrase to stop and contemplate it like he usually would.

You tried asking him again the next day. And again the next. He continued to refuse point-blank. You tried explaining why you wanted to see his soul, but the excuse that you "just wanted to check to make sure it was still there" didn't convince him. Every day, his answer became a little more strained. A little more forceful. You weren't sure if he was angry with you, or just growing more concerned by the insistence of your request. Either way, you couldn't stop yourself from asking.

You grew more and more frustrated, too. One day, while you were sitting in the kitchen watching Sans finish up the dishes, you asked,

"Why won't you let me see your soul?" You tapped your fingers on the table agitatedly. You thought you saw something creeping over your shoulder, so you whirled around in your seat to look. Nothing there.

There was a loud clatter as Sans set the plate he was holding down a little too hard. You flinched and turned back around in your seat.

"Because I don't want to. Why dontcha let up about the soul stuff?"

"... _Let up_ about it?" You laughed breathlessly, then rubbed your face with your hands.

"What? I don't get why you keep asking. It's kinda freaky, not gonna lie." Sans did sound a bit on edge. His voice was tense. He threw the dish drying towel down on the counter so he could turn around and face you.

"I..." You hesitated. Your palms were sweaty. You wiped them on your pants. You had to come up with something convincing... It was driving you mad. Even you couldn't pinpoint why it was so important. But you just had to see it...

The whispers told you what to say. You followed their advice blindly.

"I'm sorry. I just feel so empty..." You stood up and walked around the table, leaning on it for support as you went. 

"I know..." Sans admitted gravely. He continued to stand against the sink, watching your approach but not moving closer or edging away.

"Part of it's mine. _Mine._ I miss it so much... You have no idea what it's like." You limped up to him, right into his personal space. He stood up straighter when you were face-to-face. If he was trying to close the height difference, that effort was futile. "It aches... Like some kind of demon eating me from the inside out. If I could just see it again, it would make me feel better..."

You clawed at your own chest for emphasis while, with the other hand, you grabbed Sans' wrist. Blood pounded in your veins. You felt an awful, rotten hunger. The whispers surrounded you on all sides, egging you on. It was dark outside, so you could see your reflection in the window behind Sans. Its eyes were black.

"I know, but that part's not... It's not yours anymore. It's in me, just like a bit of what used to be my soul is yours now." With the hand you weren't holding down, Sans reached up and splayed his fingers on your chest. "Fair trade, right?" He smiled, but leaned back away from you. The counter creaked softly under his weight. 

" _It's not fair,_ " you hissed. Your grip on his wrist tightened. "I want _my_ soul back. Please... Let me at least see it. I'm begging you." Your eyes bore holes into his while you stared at him intensely. As he tilted away from you, you leaned in closer. Unable to hold your fixed look, he dropped his gaze. 

"No."

You snapped. In one, sharp motion, you slapped Sans' hand away and beckoned forward with your fingers. There were three, flustered clicks as his soul burst out of him. Greedily, you hastened to grab it-

A heavy blow to the side of your face sent you stumbling backward. It knocked the wind right out of you. The jarring _THUNK_ to your skull was more shocking than painful. Your knees buckled; you crashed to the floor, hitting a chair on your way down. The edge of the chair scraping up your spine hurt worse than the punch, itself. 

Sans stood above you, his fist clenched and his soul exposed. The clacking sound of rattling bones filled the silence. He was shaking like a leaf. For a second, he looked down at you with dark, empty eyes. You stared each other down for a heartbeat. Not even your whispering hallucinations were there to add commentary.

Then Sans blinked, and the lights in his eyes turned back on. He looked from his own fist to you on the floor, an expression of dawning horror blooming on his face as a dark purple bruise blossomed on yours.

"Oh my god..." He shoved his soul back in his chest. You were so stunned that you hadn't even gotten a good look at it before it was gone. Sans fell to his knees and grabbed your shoulders urgently. "I'm so, so sorry, holy shit. Are you okay?" Gingerly, you touched the side of your head. 

"No..." Sans' fingers clenched around your arms. "No, I mean... _I'm_ sorry... I can't believe I..."

It seemed like you were always one step behind, because it took you a minute to process what you'd done. Sans had told you no, and you still... 

You were just as bad as _him_.

Whatever mental clarity the punch had knocked into you fled abruptly. You were suddenly overwhelmed by voices all trying to talk to you at once. Blood pounded to your head while dizziness made your vision swim nauseatingly. You shut your eyes tight and pushed Sans' hands off of you. Then, contradictingly, you reached out and clung to him like you were drowning at sea and he was your only lifeline. 

"Please... please... _please_..."

You didn't even know what you were pleading for. Forgiveness, maybe. Or for him to put you out of your misery. Another blow to the head might knock you out, or else... You didn't think you'd mind a matching scar on your right thigh.

He didn't do any of those things, though. He was eerily quiet as he let you hold him. You did so until the voices quieted down to a manageable level, and still for a while after that. A part of you didn't want to get better, because then you'd have to answer for what you'd done.

But that never happened, either. Sans still had nothing to say even as he pulled you to your feet and took you to the bathroom to get a better look at your bruise. He asked you some questions... Questions that your human anatomy book had taught him to ask in case of a suspected concussion. He must've decided that you didn't have one, because he didn't take you to anyone to get healed. He just brought you to the living room, where sat together on the couch while he pulled out his phone and started texting someone.

This continued for maybe an hour before Sans stood up and led you to bed, never once even making at attempt to talk to you about it. You couldn't say you blamed him. There wasn't much left to say.

***

"We're gonna go see Papyrus."

Sans made this announcement over lunch the next day. You were sitting across from each other while you picked at your food, twitching violently whenever you thought you felt the ghost of a hand running through your hair. You wore Sans' blue sweater and ran your fingers over the zipper compulsively whenever the hallucination was particularly bad. It didn't help much, so you weren't sure why you did it.

You pursed your lips at Sans' declaration, but otherwise made no indication that you'd heard it. You didn't want to go. But, from the tone of his voice, you were sure Sans wouldn't be convinced otherwise. And if he was going, then you were going. No question about that. 

So after lunch, that was where you went. You followed Sans closely as he walked across the street. You passed your old house, which was boarded up with a "condemned" sign on the front door. You continued to shoot anxious looks at it even as Sans knocked on your friends' door. Someone answered it before he was even finished knocking.

"Hey, guys!" Undyne greeted you with unusual chipperness. You had a hard time making eye contact with her, but you made an effort to appear slightly normal by waving. 

"Hey. Lookin' for Papyrus... Is he here?" 

"Yeah! He's in his room... Come on in!" Undyne held the door open wide and gestured for you to enter. You stole a quick glance in her direction. She smiled at you brightly. What day of the week was it... Shouldn't she have been working?

Alphys was home, too, which was odd for this time of day. She was standing around in the living room... Just kind of hovering. She scurried into the bathroom when you and Sans walked into the house.

You stuck to Sans like glue. You felt like something was wrong here, but you couldn't pinpoint what it was. However, you trusted Sans' judgment of the situation more than your own, and he seemed not to think anything was weird. 

The door to Papyrus' room was open. You couldn't see his bed from your angle, but something that definitely struck you as odd was that all of his decorations were put away. No pirate flag, no action figures, no-

Suddenly, someone shoved you from behind. You stumbled forward into Papyrus' room, only just catching yourself with your cane before you lost your balance completely and fell over. By the time you caught yourself and whirled around, the door had slammed shut behind you, separating you from Sans.

"Sans?" you called out immediately. You lurched for the door and jiggled the handle. It wouldn't turn... It was locked from the outside. You kept trying even when your palm was too slippery with sweat to get a good grip. You dropped your cane unceremoniously so you could use both hands to put more force on the handle.

"Sans!" Your second cry was louder and more strained than the first. If this was some kind of prank, it wasn't very funny. You looked over your shoulder, looking for Papyrus. But the room was empty. Not only was Papyrus not there, but none of his stuff was, either. It wasn't just the decorations... The closet door was open, and none of his clothes were inside. There were no books on the bookshelf. No fuzzy bunny slippers at the foot of his bed. 

This wasn't just Undyne having poor taste in practical jokes. They planned on locking you in here for so long that Papyrus had to take all of his things out of his room...

You heard the muffled sound of the front door to the house opening and slamming shut.

_"SANS!"_

\---

End of PATIENCE


	42. A Distant Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt this chapter warranted adding a new tag... Though it's really nothing new assuming you've read the first two fics in the series. I also cleaned up the tags a bit and updated the summary for the very last time while I was at it. I've been a busy bee.

PART 6 - BRAVERY

\---

You rammed your shoulder into the door. Once... twice... three times. It took that long for you to realize that it opened inwardly, so you wouldn't be able to force it open like that even if you did have enough strength to break the lock. 

"SANS!" you wailed again while tugging on the door handle. What was going on? Was Sans in on this? He couldn't have been... He wouldn't have done this to you. He knew how you felt about being confined in places. 

A full-body shiver ran from the base of your spine up to your neck. You had to get out of here. You had to get back to Sans. You abandoned your efforts at the door and stumbled over to the window, instead. You threw all of your weight into opening it, but you only succeeding in straining the muscles in your arms when the window didn't budge. You tried again, with similar results. Only then did you notice the screws in the bottom of the window, holding it shut. What the hell?!?

You returned to the door and screamed Sans' name several more times. Finally, you received an answer.

"S-Sans isn't h-here right now!" Alphys' voice was shrill and frazzled. You didn't care.

"WHERE IS HE?!" you continued to yell even though you were well aware that the walls in these old houses were paper-thin. You searched around the room, rummaging through dresser drawers, the closet, under the bed... Looking for anything that could've helped you get out of there. But the room was bare.

"Undyne is t-taking him h-home..." 

The thought of Sans being all the way across the street was unbearable to you. Your breaths came in shallow gasps. You had to lean against the wall for support. You scratched your chest vigorously. Why were they keeping you locked here? Why couldn't you go home with him? You didn't understand.

But they _couldn't_ keep you locked here. Not just on principle... There was literally no cell that could hold you. Theoretically. You slid down to the floor and closed your eyes in concentration. But, no matter how hard you thought about it, you couldn't summon that tingling feeling in your brain. You rubbed your temples, as though that would help. You grew increasingly frantic as your magic refused to obey you. It had worked when you wanted to get back to Sans before... Why not now?

"A-are you st-still in there?" Alphys asked nervously, probably thinking about your shortcut-creating abilities, too. You said nothing, hoping she'd open the door and you could force your way past her. But you couldn't control your ragged, gasping breaths, which gave you away.

"O-okay. Well, um... I h-hope you're listening, because I h-have to explain this before Undyne g-gets back..." She paused but, when you still didn't respond, forged on ahead,

"Sans t-told me about your soul."

Your heart just about stopped beating. You didn't think it was possible to feel even more betrayed by him, yet here you were. That was so... _so_ private... You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You had barely been able to tell Sans about that... No, you hadn't even been able to tell _him_. You'd had to _show_ him. And now he was just going around telling _outsiders_? Alphys had no business knowing...

Your head was still swimming with the seeming impossibility of such callous treachery when Alphys continued,

"H-he wants my help... We've been w-working on detecting unique soul signatures to help with Frisk's, um... situation. And, well, we th-think that, if we can narrow it down some more, we might be able to get the f-foreign matter out of your s-soul."

It took you a moment to understand what she was saying. She was talking about taking the black, void-like substance out of you.

Suddenly, you were assaulted with protests from all sides. You couldn't usually understand the whispers word-for-word, but you were able to pick some distinct phrases out this time.

_"Foolish."_

_"It won't work."_

_"They're trying to kill you."_

_"It still won't be you."_

Pathetic, whimpering cries escaped your lips. That last voice was what really got to you. You didn't care so much if you died from it, but...

"But I want _my_ soul back..."

Maybe she could find a way to remove the disease from your soul without killing you, but Alphys could never make you whole again. At best, you would have... What? A fraction of a monster's soul? That was no better, in your opinion. You'd just be even emptier than you already were.

"W-well, uh... We're g-going to work on it." Alphys' timid answer from behind the door was enough to tell you that this wasn't up for debate. Again, Sans had decided something for you... At least he wasn't trying to hide it this time. When you had nothing to say, Alphys added, "B-but d-don't worry! It'll still be a while... We decided to k-keep working on Frisk's soul, f-first. We n-need to figure out if it's even possible to live with p-part of a soul... Flowey's going to be the t-test."

So he was going to make sure you wouldn't die from it, but that still did nothing to address your real problem with his plan. Your sniffles died down to silent tears soaking your face. The whispers remained relentless, but you didn't have the energy to keep up your usual level of panic. You simply trembled on the floor, helpless. Alphys seemed to mistake the lack of noises coming from your room as you calming down and continued on,

"Until then... We all think maybe... M-maybe you should stay here? J-just for a little while! Because Sans s-said you guys might've done some... b-bad things to each other. He w-wouldn't say what, but... um..." She paused for a long moment, then started over, "We just th-think it's safer for Sans... And for you! If you don't... see each other... for a while."

This was important, so you tried to listen, but it was made very difficult by the voices yammering in your ear. They latched onto what Alphys said as she was saying it and provided unhelpful commentary. 

_"He doesn't want you anymore."_

_"He's afraid of you."_

_"...As he should be."_

Your stomach churned. You felt like you were going to be sick again. You'd thought that Sans not wanting to talk about it meant that he was willing to put it behind him, but it seemed like what happened in the kitchen yesterday had crossed a line. Stupid... You were stupid to think anyone could let something like that slide. What if he hadn't fought back in time? You didn't even want to think about it...

You touched the bruise on your face. Gingerly at first, but the more the self-loathing began to build in your gut, the harder you pressed on it. Maybe it wasn't before, but now... This really was all your fault.

"H-hello? Are you still there?"

You weren't planning on responding but, even if you were, you wouldn't have gotten the chance to before the front door opened and closed again.

"OH MY GOD." You heard Undyne shout from the living room, "Why is this so DRAMATIC?" There were heavy footsteps, then Alphys' barely audible voice as she said nervously,

"Undyne, I'm n-not sure if they're still in there... I think they might've p-portaled out..."

Without warning, there was a loud _BANG!_ on your door. You yelped and curled in on yourself, drawing your knees up to your chest and covering your ears with your hands.

"They're still in there!"

"U-Undyne!"

"What? Hey, punk!" There was another slap on the door, this one not as loud. "I brought your nerdy video game thing over... Wanna play something?"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Was she really asking you to play _games_? You didn't even bother responding, though the absurdity of the suggestion did seem to chase the whispers away somewhat. 

Undyne waited way too long for you to answer her. Finally, after at least a full minute, she got the hint.

"Okay, well, we're gonna unlock the door now."

"W-we are?"

"Yeah! What're they gonna do? They can get out whenever they want, anyway!"

While not technically true, Undyne was right that, even if you were let out, you would have nowhere to go. You were beginning to see that now. If Sans didn't want you back, blindly pursuing him wasn't going to change that. It would only freak him out more...

How long? How long would you have to be without him? Most days, you could barely tolerate five minutes. What was he thinking... Days? Weeks? You couldn't... You couldn't...

You pulled the hoodie over your head and buried your face in its collar. You barely heard the _click!_ as the bedroom door was unlocked. 

For the first time since this all started, you seriously considered killing yourself. The suggestion did not come from the whispers, but from your own mind. It felt like the most rational idea you'd had in weeks. To you, it didn't even seem like a big deal... Just the natural progression of things. You'd been wondering when this was all going to be the death of you, anyway. Why wait?

But there was nothing in the room with which you could end your life, and just the thought of going out and finding something exhausted you. So not now. However, having that option in your back pocket was... Oddly comforting. Things were pretty bad, but there was always a choice, even when there didn't seem like there was. You always had suicide to fall back on. Sans would've never let you do that... Would've been horrified that you were even considering it. But Sans wasn't around anymore. That was kind of the point. 

The voices laughed at you. They thought this was funny. They didn't care if you lived or died... They hadn't expected you to make it out of the void, anyway. Everything after that was all just a bonus. A cruel, entertaining joke.

Two cold hands covered your own over your ears. _"Shhhhh..."_ The voices whispered to you, trying to tell you something, but you couldn't quite make it out. It just felt foreboding. You quaked with fear. You were tired of being afraid, but you couldn't exactly do anything about it.

You sat like that for... a while. Without Sans, you didn't have anyone to cling to. Instead, you hugged your own knees tightly. Holding that position for hours made you cramp up terribly. No one forced you to move like Sans would've. Every so often, you'd hear a knock on the door and a voice asking if you were ready to come out. When that happened, you were reminded that the outside world existed. You'd try to call for help, but you weren't permitted to open your mouth. Instead, you'd just moan, which the person on the other side of the door took as a no. Then you'd be left alone again with your own insanity.

Eventually, you fell asleep, and the disturbing hallucinations morphed seamlessly into horrible nightmares. Interspersed between the images of dead bodies tearing at your flesh and the agonizing reimagining of the events that took place in the mirror room was a voice calling out to you. 

_"Are you there? Answer me..."_

But, just as surely as you couldn't answer the knocks on your door in the real world, you couldn't answer this voice. You were choked out, gagged, or asphyxiated every time. 

You were in Hell... No one was going to help you here.

***

When you woke up the next morning, you were disoriented to find yourself lying on the floor of someone else's bedroom. You were even more alarmed when, immediately upon waking up, you heard a fist pounding on the door.

"RISE AND SHINE, PUNK! Breakfast's ready!" 

You blinked and rubbed your brow. Your head hurt. A lot of things hurt, actually. You tried to stretch, but yelped when the motion caused a sharp _crack!_ of pain in your back. You hissed and rubbed the sore spot while rolling over to lay on your stomach.

"Come on! We're not letting you hole up in there all day... If we have to bring breakfast to you, we will!"

You'd never had someone threaten you with breakfast in bed before... Or breakfast on the floor, as it were. But now, it sounded like a death sentence. Getting up and interacting with anyone seemed like an impossible feat. You didn't have the will to try. But they were going to force you to either way. 

"I'm coming," you said just loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door. Despite your statement, you continued to lie on the ground. You couldn't do this... You just wanted Sans to come back and take care of you.

You couldn't believe it had been a full night and he still hadn't come back for you. Was it really that easy for him? Then again... Maybe he was just relieved he wouldn't have to look after you anymore. You knew you had come to be a lot of work. Just keeping you from hurting yourself was a full-time job. But you hadn't thought it would ever be too much for him. How could it be? You shared parts of each other's _souls_. You were practically the same person. You thought you'd do anything for each other. Clearly, you'd been wrong.

Still, you couldn't find it in you to be mad at him. The voices that had been in your head last night were probably right; Sans was afraid of you. At least on some level. 

He'd been afraid of you when you were soulless, too. When you thought of it like that, his actions made a little more sense. There were several similarities between what he'd done back then and what he was doing now. 

Lock you up somewhere out of sight? Check.

Come up with a hair-brained scheme to fix your soul? Check.

Rope your mutual friends into helping him? Check.

Except this time, you didn't think his plan would work. Even if it was a success and he managed to excise the cancerous mass in your soul, you highly doubted everything would go back to normal. How much of your insanity was really because of the sickness festering inside of you, and how much of it was just how you were going to be from now on? You weren't very optimistic. 

But if it didn't work... Would Sans ever want you back?

Finally, you sat up straight. You pulled up Sans' sweater and pressed the fabric against your nose. Your head was clearer now than it had been in a long while. No hallucinations and no zoning out. A little tingle in the back of your brain told you why; your magic was acting up again. 

You could try to make a shortcut now, if you really wanted to. It probably still wouldn't work, but now would've been the time to try. But, even in yesterday's haze, you'd been right to think that escaping Undyne and Alphys' house to confront Sans wouldn't do any good. You didn't trust yourself to keep it together long enough to have a rational conversation with him about this. 

Excluding yesterday's suicidal thoughts (which, even now, didn't disturb you as much as they probably should have), there were only two ways forward that you could see. Either play along with Sans' plan, or don't. The latter option was certainly the most appealing. Sitting in Papyrus' room, catatonic, would be easy. Refusing to eat until Sans returned to you would probably be the quickest way to end this. A hunger strike would force his hand if he still cared at all about whether you lived or died... Which he _must_. 

That was probably what you would've decided on last night if you'd been well enough to think of the idea then. But the magic buzzing in your skull gave you enough sense to realize that such a plan wouldn't work in the long-term. It would only make Sans resent you more. You wanted to mend things, not break them further apart. So you had to play along. Act normal around Undyne and Alphys, so they'd have nothing but good things to say about you to Sans. Maybe, if you could convince Sans that you were getting better, he wouldn't be so afraid of you anymore... Maybe, if you were a good enough actor, you could be back with him in a matter of days.

It was easy enough to say that you were going to fake improvement now, when you were relatively clear-headed. But what about the times when the whispers were telling you to hurt people? Or when you had a panic attack at the sight of your black-eyed reflection? How were you going to pretend to be normal then?

There was really only one way to find out. You stood up off of the floor, squared your shoulders, and opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Reed's headspace in the first half of this chapter.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ByC8sRdL-Ro)
> 
> Tomorrow (Friday the 13th) is the day the reader dies in TUYS. Happy death day!
> 
> Also, I realized that I haven't mentioned this since before the hiatus, but I'm still on a discord server for Undertale fic writers and readers. [Here's the link](https://discord.gg/eAPj88v) if you're interested in chatting about Still Counting, getting notified from yours truly whenever a new chapter goes up, or want to find some new fics to read.


	43. Won't Let You Down

The bedroom door swung open, but no one was in the living room to see your determined emergence. This was a shame, because you lost all nerve the moment the door smacked into the wall next to you. You cringed at the noise you'd made, then peeked out of the room to see where everyone was.

Undyne and Alphys were in the kitchen, which you supposed made sense given that Undyne had mentioned breakfast. They both stared at you. Alphys looked highly anxious as she wrung her hands under the table and lashed her tail back and forth through the hole in the chair she was sitting in. Meanwhile, Undyne flashed you a toothy grin.

"FINALLY! I thought I was gonna have to drag you out here!" She looked at Alphys and smacked the table with the palm of her hand. "You lost the bet fair and square! Pay up!"

Alphys rolled her eyes a little, relaxing marginally from her girlfriend's familiar antics. She stood up from her seat and walked around the table to give Undyne a kiss on the cheek. Undyne barked a triumphant laugh.

While they were distracted, you shuffled out of the room and toward the table. There was already a plate of waffles sitting out for you at a seat between Undyne and Alphys. However, the thought of sitting with your back to the living room and the front door made your head pound with fear. So you walked around to the other side, then grabbed your plate and pulled it across the table before sitting down. You felt much better being able to face the only entrance to the house, but then there was the black screen of the TV in the living room... You didn't think you would've been able to see your reflection from the angle you were at, but you kept your eyes trained down at your food just in case. 

Your hosts were quiet as you did this. You wondered what they were thinking. How much had Sans told them? Alphys knew the basic facts about your soul but, judging by the comment she'd made before she explained what she knew to you, you had to assume that Undyne didn't even know that much. Did they know anything about your odd behaviors? Or had Sans just thrown you at them and said "good luck"? 

Well, you were going to try to be normal, anyway. Maybe they wouldn't notice...

"So!" Undyne said while rubbing her hands together. "Got any plans for the day, nerd?" You looked up quickly to make sure she was talking to you. Seemed that way. 

"...Not yet," you said, which was the gentlest way you could come up with to say that you didn't plan on doing anything at all.

"Great! 'Cuz you and I have work to do!" You tried to keep your expression neutral as you stared at your waffles, meticulously cutting them up into tiny pieces despite never putting any in your mouth.

"What kind of work?"

"You'll see!" 

You didn't like that. You didn't like surprises anymore, in general. What if it was something that would set you off? You never had to worry about that sort of thing with Sans. He never made you do anything that was out of your comfort zone. But Undyne...

You shivered, then swiped at the space over your head to bat away a nonexistent hand. In an effort to hide your tick, you stabbed several chunks of waffle and shoved them in your mouth. You'd forgotten to put syrup on, so it tasted bland and chewy. You washed it down your throat with a swig of orange juice.

There was a long, awkward silence as you forced yourself to eat. Undyne and Alphys were done way before you. Clearly, they didn't know what to do with themselves. The empty seat across the table suddenly reminded you of something, so you asked,

"Where's Papyrus?" You hadn't seen him in what felt like weeks. Maybe it _had_ been weeks... You weren't really sure. The two women shot each other knowing looks before Alphys informed you,

"H-he's, um... K-keeping Sans company."

Right. You kept your eyes trained carefully on your food, which you slowly stopped eating. What was Sans doing right now? Was he awake yet? It was pretty early, so probably not...

Without warning, Undyne leapt up from the table. She swept your half-finished plate into her arms, along with her own and Alphys'.

"Alright, you're taking too long! Let's get going!!!"

As Undyne rinsed the plates in the sink, you took a brief moment to close your eyes and wipe your palms on your legs. Whatever this was, you didn't want to do it. You didn't know what you wanted to do instead, though. Sleep sounded good until you considered the nightmares that were bound to follow you under. A shower and a change of clothes were appealing, but too much work. And sitting alone in your room wasn't considered socially acceptable, if that was the impression you were going for now.

You didn't manage to think of a good enough excuse not to follow Undyne by the time she finished up the dishes and pulled you out of your chair by the arm. Your breath caught in your throat from the unexpected touch, but Undyne was so boisterous that it was impossible to mistake her for anyone else. 

"C'mon! Grab your cane, we've got a loooong walk ahead of us!"

***

Undyne wasn't kidding about the walk. Getting all the way from camp to Waterfall was no small feat, especially for you. Making it to Hotland wasn't such a big deal, given that there were elevators to take you most of the way. But transportation past that point wasn't so great. It wouldn't have been quite so bad if the Riverperson had been available, but they weren't there when you and Undyne checked. You supposed it made sense that they wouldn't always be exactly where you needed them every time, but it was still inconvenient.

By the time Undyne dragged you to her old, burnt-down house, you were about ready to keel over. Your knees shook and you relied heavily on your cane. It didn't help that you'd been mostly a vegetable for the past weeks and weren't used to walking longer distances anymore. 

"Here we are!" Undyne announced, her arms spread wide. You looked around, but you couldn't figure out what the surprise was supposed to be. The place looked a little different from how you remembered it... Was she just showing you her home improvements? The modest, dome-shaped house still looked decrepit with its charred siding and boarded-up windows, but what was new was in the yard. The makeshift sparring arena that Orion had once fought Undyne in had been improved. The hay bale seating had been upgraded to a long, metal bench. The arena, which was delineated by a square of padded flooring that was cut off from the rest of the yard by a high, chain-link fence, took up almost all of the space. It would've been an eyesore in front of the house if the building itself wasn't so dilapidated. Off to the side was a collection of workout and training equipment, most of which was brand new. You didn't know what half of it did.

You watched with a blank expression on your face as Undyne put her hands on her hips and gave you a toothy grin. You waited for several heartbeats, until it became clear that she was going to make you ask before telling you what was going on. You shifted your weight from foot to foot and eyed up the bench longingly. Instead of inquiring as to why you were here, you asked,

"Can I sit down?" The minute the words were out of you mouth, they felt timid and wrong. You hadn't asked for a seat in years... Usually, you just took one, sometimes announcing it if it meant walking off in the middle of a conversation. It was such a small thing but, now that you noticed it, you were disturbed that you had lost even that modicum of self-confidence.

"Yeah, go for it! Come and see the new bench... I just got it yesterday!"

You followed her over to it, though you didn't find it all that exciting. It was just a bench, which was slightly damp from sitting in the humid caves. Being able to rest your legs was a relief, though, so you supposed it was good for something.

There was another awkward silence. You knew what Undyne was doing; she was trying to force you to initiate conversation. Normally, you would've stubbornly refused to fall for such blatant manipulation. But you were trying to leave a good impression, so you had to act like you cared about whatever was going on here. Still, you found it impossible to make eye contact as you asked,

"Why are we here?" Undyne's smile grew. She stood over you and spread her arms out again as she proclaimed,

"I'M gonna train YOU to be a Royal Guard!!!"

You blinked deliberately. That was... the stupidest thing you'd ever heard. You couldn't even begin to point out the ways in which that idea was absurd. She looked serious, though... She kept raising her brows at you, as though waiting for you to get excited. When you didn't, she put her hands on her hips and huffed,

"Aren't you PUMPED?!? This isn't something I'll do for just anyone, you know!" 

"You should find someone better, then," you mumbled, unable to stop yourself, "What brought this on?" Undyne scoffed.

"Special orders from Asgore, himself! Now that you're not the ambassador anymore, you have to do _something_ to make yourself useful. You can't just take up space on the surface for free, you know!"

"That's ridiculous," you said, finally starting to get annoyed. "I'm a _human_... I can't be in the Royal Guard. You guys used to _kill_ humans."

"That's exactly why you'd be great! Being a Royal Guard is the most prestigious position in the Underground. Having a human on the team would be great for, like... Integration! Or whatever you call it." You could tell Undyne had pulled that out of her ass. That couldn't be the real reason she and Asgore had colluded to rope you into this.

"Well, find a different human, then. I wouldn't be good at it, in case you couldn't tell." You held up your cane and waggled it in the air, your brows raised with skepticism. You knew that Royal Guards had to pass certain physical standards. You'd barely been able to drag yourself to Undyne's house... You were sure you'd make a piss-poor warrior. Anyone could've seen that. All you had to do was look at what had happened in the void. You hadn't been able to help Sans at all in that fight...

"NONSENSE!" Undyne roared, stomping her foot on the ground and pointing at you menacingly. "You can do MAGIC! You could be AWESOME with the right training!!! And besides... Anyone who can wiggle their pinky finger can fight! You just have to learn the right moves that work for you!"

"But I-"

"THIS ISN'T UP FOR DEBATE!" She cut you off loudly enough that you were sure Napstablook would've been able to hear her from his farm. "Take it up with Asgore if you have a problem! NOW DROP AND GIVE ME TWENTY!!!"

You tried to protest again but, every time you spoke up, Undyne increased the number of pushups you were assigned to do. When it got to around fifty, your spark of anger fizzled out and died. Your shoulders slumped with defeat before you got to the floor slowly. Your face burned and eyes stung with embarrassment as you obeyed the orders. You only got to twelve pushups before you hit a wall. You leveraged yourself halfway up to thirteen, then collapsed facedown on the ground. Undyne crouched down next to you.

"Nice job! I didn't think you'd make it past ten!"

"Why'd you tell me to do fifty, then?" you mumbled into the floor. Undyne laughed uproariously.

"I'm always gonna tell you to do more than I think you can! My job is to PUSH YOU TO THE LIMIT!!! NOW GET UP AND GET IN THAT ARENA!!!"

What you really wanted to do was turn your head away and just lay there in protest, but you didn't. You had to remind yourself why you'd walked all the way here in the first place. You _needed_ Undyne to tell Sans that you were getting better. This wasn't at all what you had expected that to entail. But, if you had to endure Undyne's pointless training regimen, then you would do your best. Anything to get Sans back...

So you clawed your way to your feet and started heading toward the fence. However, when Undyne saw your limp, she stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

"Um, on second thought, why don't you sit down a little while longer?" She rubbed the back of her neck and smiled at you sheepishly. That kind of put a damper on your whole heroic, grit-your-teeth-and-bear-it moment, but you were more relieved than disgruntled. You took a few backwards steps until your knees hit the bench, then sat down gingerly. Undyne sat next to you, picking up your cane from the floor and handing it to you as she did.

"Okay, sooooo in order to push you to your limits, I'm gonna have to KNOW your limits. I'm guessing walking from camp to Waterfall is one of them, huh?" You shrugged, then remembered that you were supposed to be cooperative and explained,

"Generally, yeah. How far I can go kinda depends on the day... How tired I already am, how much I walked yesterday, what the weather's like. Sometimes I'll take a wrong step and twist something a little, and then I'm basically laid out for a few days." Undyne tilted her head as she listened to you explain your disability in a monotone voice. You didn't have a problem with explaining your limitations; it was just a fact of life. When you were done saying as much as you felt was relevant, Undyne asked,

"So what is it, exactly? Is it like a... brain thing?" She tapped her own head for emphasis. Her expression told you the question was genuine; she wasn't trying to offend, but it still made your lip curl in distaste. You'd had enough people in the past suggest that it was all in your head that your reaction was visceral and immediate.

" _No._ " You looked away in disdain, then scratched your chest. When you caught sight of Sans' hoodie still on you, you stopped and slowly lowered your hand. "It's a problem with my joints, mostly. They were all rigid and messed up when I was born. They're all artificial now... In my legs, anyway. My arms are mostly normal."

It was weird. People didn't usually ask you about these things. Usually, they made their own assumptions about you. Usually, you let them. You didn't want to make people uncomfortable by bringing up the topic of disability, and it wasn't any of their business, anyway. 

_"I could have fixed you."_

A voice whispered in your ear. A shiver ran down your spine. You broke into a cold sweat.

You hadn't heard the whispers all morning... And it was never usually a single voice like that. Normally, they all talked at once. Incomprehensible muttering. But, between today and yesterday, you couldn't help but notice that they were starting to get clearer. 

_"You should have let me."_

You crossed your arms over your stomach in an effort to hide the shaking in your hands. You hunched in on yourself. The hair on your arms and the back of your neck stood on end. You had to keep it together...

Thankfully, Undyne mistook your fear for shame. She thumped you on the back and said,

"Hey, don't worry about it! Like I said, there's plenty you can do! You don't have to be able to run a marathon."

You nodded, incapable of opening your mouth to respond. You wiped your eyes to make sure you weren't crying. Not yet. 

Suddenly, Undyne snapped her fingers. The sound made you jump.

"I HAVE A GREAT IDEA! How do you feel about bikes???"

"Um... Why?" you asked, relaxing a little as the voice failed to return. Seemed you were being mercifully left alone for now...

"Wait here!" Undyne shouted as she jumped up from the bench and ran over to the stockpile of supplies that were stacked around the side of her burnt-out house. You leaned forward to watch her root around, your arms still hugging your torso. When she emerged, it was on the seat of a red bike. The bike was normal-sized, but it was dwarfed by Undyne. She was rather wobbly as she rode it, and almost fell when she came to a sudden stop in front of you.

"NGAH! Shit!" She stumbled off of the bike, then laughed at herself. "HA! I think I've only ever ridden this sucker once or twice... The only bikes we get are from the trash, and humans don't make 'em in my size." She shrugged, then held the handles out to you. "But it'll fit you perfect! And you can use it to ride back and forth from camp instead of walking! That way, you won't be tired out by the time you get here! Pretty smart, right?!?"

You felt yourself use muscles that you hadn't exercised in weeks when the corners of your lips twitched up in a brief smile. You used to like riding your bike back home. Before all of this. It was one of the few ways you could break a sweat without causing yourself pain in the process. A couple years ago, you hit a curb wrong and broke your wrist while out for a ride. Broke more than that, too... Your bike had been irreparable. You never bothered to buy a new one after that. You didn't get as much joy out of it as you used to.

Probably because you'd been soulless at the time.

Without any further thought, you surged up and took the handlebars. This particular bike was old and a little rusty, but, for a moment, you could see yourself maybe enjoying it.

"Thanks." Your gratitude was genuine, though you still couldn't drag your eyes up to meet Undyne's.

"No problem! NOW GET ON AND GIVE ME FIVE LAPS AROUND WATERFALL!!!"

***

You ended up not giving Undyne any laps at all. There was still a slight problem in that you couldn't carry your cane with you while you were riding the bike. You didn't like the thought of having to leave it in camp, if the idea was that this was going to be your transportation from there to Waterfall. So you and Undyne spent quite some time DIY'ing a simple, two-strap leather cane holder for you to wear on your back like a backpack. You imagined that it probably looked silly, but it functioned. 

By the time you figured that out, you were well rested enough to do whatever it was Undyne had wanted you to do in the arena. You told her this, to which she beamed and rubbed her hands together menacingly. 

"Good... Then get in there! Shoes off on the mat!" Obediently, you dropped the kickstand on your new bike, took off your shoes, and walked up to the chain-link fence. There was one gate, which Undyne followed you through. The rattling sound it made when she shut it behind you made you flinch. You whirled around to look at the closed gate and became suddenly light-headed. Blood pounded in your ears. Your eyes darted around. You felt panic rising in your throat. Before it could get out, you choked it down and asked,

"Can... Can we... Leave the gate open?" Undyne quirked a brow at you, but took a step backward and unlatched the gate at your request. It swung open on its own slowly. You rubbed your chest, but felt the fear ebbing now that you had a visible escape route. 

"Better?" Undyne asked. You nodded and took a couple deep breaths. 

Only then did you come to appreciate the arena you were standing in. It felt much bigger on the inside than it looked from the bench. The matted floor was firm but springy, so taking a tumble wouldn't be as jarring. Otherwise, the space was utterly empty save for you and Undyne. You hoped she didn't expect you to fight her, or something... You might have to draw the line at that. 

"Pretty cool, huh?" Undyne said proudly while looking around at her own handiwork. "Now that I'm not living here, I wanna turn this whole place into a training facility! Including the house! But, uh, that might take a while to get cleaned up." She grinned sheepishly. When you didn't respond, she clapped her hands together and said, 

"ANYWAY! I thought this would be a good place to start, since we don't really know what'll happen..." You didn't like the sound of that.

"What do you mean?"

"I _mean_ when you use your magic, duh! Learning to control it is priority number one!" 

You shuffled your feet, stuffing your hands in the pockets of Sans' hoodie. You weren't sure about this. But, then again, if you could learn to control it... The buzz of magic was the only thing you'd found so far that could drive away the hallucinations. You didn't care about potentially using it to fight, but if you could use the magic at will to tamp down on some of the crazy, it would make it a lot easier to convince Sans you were getting better.

"You really think you can teach me?"

"Sure!" Undyne said in a chipper tone. "Monster kids have to learn to control their magic, too! I bet it'll be just as easy for you. Plus, I even asked Gerson to find me a book about old, human magic. A _book_. I _read_ stuff for you! BORING stuff! You better be grateful!!!"

You tried to force another smile, though you were sure you probably just looked constipated. Now, you felt stupid for not having learned to control your magic on your own. If children had such an easy time with it, why couldn't you do it? You felt like _it_ controlled _you_ , not the other way around. And Undyne had clearly been thinking about this for a while... Maybe ever since she witnessed you using magic in the tower. You were going to let her down, you were sure of it.

"Let's see..." She dug in her pockets until she found her phone. From her dimensional box, she retrieved a book. It looked ancient, with a dull, green cover and yellowing pages. You inched closer to her, intrigued. "HERE! 'Accessing Your Inner Magick'... Dunno why they spelled it with a 'k'. Oh, and you have to skip the introduction. It was written by humans, so there's a lot of garbage about being the superior race and blah blah blah..." Undyne rolled her eyes as she flipped past several pages. She tilted the book so you could see it better, but she turned the pages too fast for you to read anything.

"From what _I_ can tell, there's not much difference between human magic and monster magic. The only thing is that humans have a harder time with it 'cause your souls aren't as fully attached to your bodies as ours are. But that's ALSO what makes humans more powerful and badass, once they get the hang of it. It's like a... What do you call it?"

"A catch-22," you supplied, to which Undyne snapped her fingers.

"Yeah! Sure! So all you gotta do is get in touch with your soul. Then, BAM! Magic!" She slammed the book shut and grinned at you, as if it were just that easy.

"I doubt that's going to happen." You were incapable of stopping that sentiment before it was out of your mouth, but it was true. You couldn't get in touch with something you no longer had. Undyne scoffed and tossed the book over her shoulder carelessly. It hit the fence with a clatter.

"Don't be so pessimistic! It can't be that hard! Here, I'll help-" All of this talk about souls already had you on edge. So, the moment Undyne started raising her hand, you knew what she was about to do. 

Without thought, you lunged forward, grabbed her wrist, and twisted. At the same time, you stomped your foot on her bare toes. She yelped, though you guessed it was more out of surprise than pain.

"Dude!" She shoved you. That got you off of her foot, but you kept a deathgrip on her wrist. As if that would stop her if she really wanted to take out your soul.

"Don't... I _don't_ want... I..." You tried to speak, but kept getting tripped up over the words. Black smoke teased the edges of your vision while something twisted uncomfortably in your chest. You took deep breaths while staring, fixedly, at a point on the floor. 

"Okay, jeez," Undyne acquiesced while prying your fingers off of her wrist. The pain of her forcing your fingers backward snapped you out of it. You snatched your hand back and massaged them, still unable to look up from the ground. "But the book says it's easier to start off with your soul out. You're supposed to work your way up to doing it without-"

"I don't care what the book says," you mumbled. The rubbing of your fingers turned into obsessive picking at your already-too-short nails. "I won't do it if... Just teach me like you would a monster. No soul stuff."

You didn't see her, but you heard Undyne take a couple steps around you. She stood next to you for a moment, then waved her hand in front of you as if testing your vision. In an effort not to let your facade of sanity break down on day one, you forcibly tore your gaze away from the floor. You managed to look Undyne in the eyes for half a second before you settled on a point just above her shoulder. Close enough.

"If you say so..."

***

Although it had been briefly saved by the bike suggestion, the training session took on a sour tone after your near breakdown. Undyne tried several methods to get you to use your magic, all of which were supposedly used with general success to teach monster kids. You tried focusing on an object. You tried clearing your mind. You tried getting mad, but couldn't muster up enough emotion. None of the tried-and-true techniques worked for you, and you only grew more hopeless over time. Consequently, Undyne grew more stubborn and annoyed by your apathy. 

"Why don't you go for a bike ride, or something?" she snapped at you after one failed attempt. You blinked up at her impassively.

"You want me to leave?" She sighed dramatically.

"Yeah... Let's call it quits for today. We'll try again tomorrow!" With that, she turned on heel, picked up the discarded book from earlier, and left the arena. You followed her out and sat on the bench to put your shoes back on. 

You dreaded having to do this all over again tomorrow. It wasn't even lunchtime yet, and you were already sick and tired of pretending to be okay. You weren't even doing a good job of it, you didn't think. You would have to do better... _be_ better... if you wanted Sans to take you back.

Without saying goodbye to Undyne, you slipped your cane-holding sling over your shoulders and swung your leg over the bike. You were glad to have it; you didn't think you would've been able to walk back to camp without stopping to rest, and you certainly weren't about to make a helpful shortcut. You might get a little sore on the bike, but it was easier on your joints and you figured you could make it back much faster. 

You were a little wobbly at first, but you quickly got back into the swing of things. Waterfall was utterly empty; you heard nothing other than the smooth _whir_ of your wheels. As you cut through a shallow pool, sending water splashing out in all directions, you felt oddly serene for the first time in several weeks. 

This was... Okay. You weren't sure about the magic stuff, but it had been worth it to play along with Undyne's absurd Royal Guard training idea just for this. Riding the bike had a similar effect as the walks in the woods with Sans. Something about the damp air blowing gently past you as you rode by the scenic, bioluminescent cave at a leisurely pace kept the hallucinations at bay. You knew it wouldn't last, but it was nice to get a break.

You were hit with a sudden blast of hot air when you emerged into the vast caverns of Hotland. The vertical drops down into lava on either side of the path made you nervous enough that you had to get off of your bike and walk it. It seemed odd that your fear of heights had persisted through all of this. You felt like a completely different person now, but you supposed there were some things from before that still lingered.

As you approached the elevator, you stared longingly at Alphys' lab. Was Sans in there? It made sense that he would go back to fervently working on experiments in the lab now that your own soul was at stake. Besides... He didn't have to look after you anymore. He could work all he wanted. 

It struck you, then, that no one was looking after you now. You were alone. That didn't used to happen.

A lot had changed.

You got in the elevator, bike in tow, and continued your trek back to camp.

***

As you got nearer to the surface, the hallucinations started getting bad. Something about being in the small elevators had triggered it, and getting back on your bike after making it to the judgment hall didn't make them go away. You had to dismount again before reaching the surface, as you were dizzy and afraid you would fall if you tried to ride down the steep hill at the cave's entrance. 

You didn't even get that far, though. Right around where the barrier used to stand, it became too much. You dropped your bike and pressed your back against the cave wall, covering your ears helplessly as you were assaulted by echoing voices. 

While you cowered just out of reach of the sunlight flooding into the mouth of the cave, you didn't notice someone approaching you. You didn't hear them trying to get your attention until they touched your arm. The cold, skeletal hand on your skin sent you into a panic. You reached over your shoulder and pulled your cane out of its sling as if drawing a sword from a sheath. Blindly, you swung with all of your might. Just as you were about to make contact with your assailant, you realized who it was. 

"Papyrus!" 

Before you could even say his name, Papyrus' hand shot out. There was a loud _CLANG!_ of carbon fiber on metal as your cane hit the armored palm of his hand, rather than smashing into his head as it would've done without interference. The cane bounced back, the sudden change of direction causing you to lose your grip. It shot out of your hand and skidded on the floor harmlessly.

"NYEH HEH HEH! I see your training with Undyne is already paying dividends!!! But you are still too slow for The Great Papyrus!!!"

Your heart pounded in your chest. You looked around wildly, checking to see if anyone else had seen you attack your self-proclaimed brother. Didn't seem like it; Papyrus was alone.

"You scared me," you muttered, your face turning red with embarrassment. You had to be better than this...

"My apologies, sibling! I know my visage can be quite imposing, but there is no need for fear!!!" He stepped back and struck a pose. He was dressed in his full Royal Guard regalia, but with his helmet tucked under his arm. Briefly, you wondered if Undyne would try to make you wear armor like that. You didn't think you'd be able to lift it, let alone walk with it on.

"What're you doing here... Aren't you supposed to be working?" you asked while shuffling to the side. You bent down to pick up your cane and used its support to leverage yourself back up. 

"I AM working! Undyne tasked me with making sure you arrived back home safely!" Papyrus didn't seem to realize how brutally honest he was being, but his declaration made you cringe. So you hadn't really been left alone, after all. Someone was still looking after you. Maybe that should've been reassuring but, somehow, it made you feel more alone.

Papyrus was undeterred by your lack of response. He waited only a heartbeat before bounding over to your fallen bike and picking it up. It would've been easier and more logical to roll it on its wheels like you'd been doing, but Papyrus lifted up the whole thing and tucked it under his arm. 

"Here, I will take this for you! ONWARD!!!" He sprinted out of the cave enthusiastically, but came to a sudden stop to wait for you to catch up. 

You sighed, then followed him into the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 400,000 words into the series and you finally get a description of the reader's disability XD In my defense, it hasn't really been relevant until now.
> 
> I'm not too happy with this chapter for some reason, but I've been fiddling with it for a while and can't seem to get it to a point where I like it. At some point I gotta just post it and move on *shrugs*


	44. Out of Sight, Out of Mind

After Papyrus brought you back to Undyne and Alphys' house, you took a nap on the couch. A very long nap. So long that you slept right through lunch and dinner and didn't wake up until everyone else had headed off to bed. A note in Alphys' handwriting that was left balancing on your chest said that she'd put leftovers in the fridge for you, but you didn't bother with them. Instead, you dragged yourself into Papyrus' old room and shut the door behind you.

When you walked in, you almost stubbed your toe on a big crate that someone must've lugged into the room while you were sleeping. You thought you had a pretty good idea of who'd done it, given that the very first item on top of all of your other stuff was a scrambled-up Rubik's cube. But, even if Papyrus might've brought it over, only one person could've gathered up all of your personal belongings, since you recognized some of it as things you'd left in the apartment.

You didn't notice right away, but it was all packed in the very same crate that your parents had shipped all of your stuff to camp in many months ago. Somehow, that made it feel like an even more devastating punch to the gut. You knelt down beside the crate and slowly removed everything one-by-one. Your hands shook as you mindlessly smoothed out wrinkled clothes that had been tossed in the crate unfolded. You took stock of everything, and were dismayed to find that it was all accounted for. Sans hadn't kept a single t-shirt for himself, nor had he left anything of his in there for you. The only thing that was missing was your laptop, which Sans must've decided was safer with him.

With your entire life scattered around the dark room, you curled into a ball and pressed your back against the wall, taking on the same fetal position you'd assumed for several hours last night. Ridiculously, this reminded you of your ex from college dramatically returning all of your stuff to you in a cardboard box the day after you'd broken up. It was ridiculous because you couldn't fathom the possibility of you and Sans _breaking up_. Just like it felt reductive to say you were ever "dating," it was outrageous to think that you would ever be apart for very long. You couldn't comprehend it... But that was clearly the message he was trying to send. 

You felt empty. You couldn't bear it. You snatched up your clunky phone, which was lying at the bottom of the crate, and looked for Sans' contact information. It seemed he'd been rummaging through your phone, since whatever silly nickname you'd last given him had been changed to just "Sans." He hadn't deleted his number, though, so you called it.

It rang... and rang... and rang. But he never picked up.

You called again. Same result. It was almost midnight, but you knew he was awake. He had to be. You called a third time, but he continued ignoring you. Getting more desperate, you texted him one word,

_Help._

This was a new low, and you knew it. Pretending to be in trouble so Sans would answer you was so wrong. But it worked... Your phone rang. You answered it immediately.

"What is it?" Sans asked gruffly. Your heart soared when you heard his voice. It felt like it had been years, even though it was little over a day. Tears sprang to your eyes.

"Sans..." Your voice trembled with emotion. "Please... I wanna come home. Please take me back... Please..."

Your plan to be tough and act normal until Sans thought you were getting better went flying out the window. Quiet, snuffling sobs forced their way out from your throat. You wanted to keep begging... To promise him that you wouldn't try to hurt him again. But all that you could force out through your cries were baseless pleas. He listened to them in silence for a minute before cutting you off.

"I can't. We can't keep doin' this. One day, one of us is gonna really end up hurtin' the other. I can't keep sittin' back and lettin' it happen... I don't wanna." He paused. You heard him take a deep breath before saying, "I'm sorry. Don't call me again." 

...He hung up. It took you a moment to comprehend the utter silence on the other end, but it was unmistakable. He'd hung up on you.

You couldn't accept that. You called him back. He didn't answer. You called him over and over and over...

Eventually, your tears were too thick for you to see what buttons you were pressing. Frustrated, you threw your phone away from you and buried your head in your hands.

You stayed like that until the sun rose, forcing you to face yet another miserable day.

***

For days, you followed Undyne around numbly. She forged on full speed ahead with her plan to train you, undeterred by how hopeless you were at it. She took advantage of your unwillingness to protest by teaching you some basic self-defense moves, showing you around the different guard patrols, and making you do laps on your bike. She spent a lot of time trying to get you to use magic, though her attempts were unsuccessful. But, through failure after failure, she kept at it. Her persistence was exhausting, even to you.

You played along with it; genuinely trying to succeed even though you took no joy in the training. Even riding the bike was more of a duty than a pleasure after the first time. After hearing Sans' rejection... Actually _hearing_ it... You were devastated. This wasn't going to be an easy, few day's fix. If you really wanted to convince him that you were better and things wouldn't just go back to the way they were, it would take some really masterful lying. Probably time, too. You wished you knew how much.

The option of giving up completely was not off the table just yet. You spent a little too much time staring at the knife block in the kitchen. Either Undyne or Alphys must've noticed, because it was gone one day. You still couldn't find it when you went back to look for it while they were both asleep. But that was fine... There were plenty of other ways, if you did decide to go that route. You didn't _think_ you would, but the idea of it was enticing in ways that you couldn't fully rationalize.

The decision was made for you when, several days after moving into Undyne and Alphys' house, there was a knock on the door. You were eating breakfast at your usual spot and didn't even look up from your cereal. It wasn't unusual for Papyrus to come calling in the early hours of the morning. But, when Undyne opened the door, it was revealed that it hadn't been Papyrus knocking.

It was your _parents_. 

"Hi! Thanks for coming! Glad you could make it!" Undyne said in a chipper tone while looking between them and you, a huge, triumphant smile on her face. Meanwhile, your mouth hung open in shock. 

"Uh, yes... Thank you for inviting us," your dad said, followed by a nervous cough. Mom, however, was uninterested in pleasantries. She caught sight of you in the kitchen, called your name, and slipped past Undyne rudely.

"Baby, why didn't you call us?!?" she exclaimed as she fast-walked toward you, then scooped you up into a hug. Your spoon clattered as you dropped it in your bowl. "We had to find out that Frisk was gone _on the news!_ What happened?!?"

"Mom... Why... How are you here?" You pushed her off of you, then looked her up and down. It was so surreal to see your parents here. They shouldn't have been involved in this... They _shouldn't_...

"W-we invited them!" Alphys announced with a smile, "We th-thought it might cheer you up..."

"Reives said no at first, but I finally wore him down!" Undyne proclaimed. Your dad edged past her, giving her as wide a berth as possible. Once he got inside, Undyne slammed the door behind him, making him jump.

Thus began the most grueling, awkward hour of your life. Despite your hatred for Reives, you were incredibly grateful he'd put a time limit on how long your parents were allowed in the camp. You weren't sure you would've been able to handle much more than an hour of them visiting. Undyne and Alphys left the three of you alone, which gave your parents free reign to ask you endless questions. What happened to Frisk? Why hadn't you called them? Where did that bruise on your face come from? Why did you and Sans break up?

Afterward, you didn't even know what you'd told them. Just stammered out the first lies that came to mind. All the while, the voices whispered in your ears. Mocking you. Telling you to bring your parents into your old house. Showing you visions of what he would do to them...

You tried desperately to redirect the conversation onto them and their problems so that you wouldn't have to talk as much. You barely listened as your mom rambled about the termites in your childhood home and how she'd been wanting to move to a new house, anyway. Finally, when their time was up, you ushered them out the door, insisting that they didn't want to get caught staying past their time limit and assuring them that they could come back another day.

When Undyne and Alphys returned, you told them in no uncertain terms,

" _Never_ do that again."

You didn't wait for their response; you simply marched into Papyrus' room and slammed the door. You didn't emerge for the rest of the day. For once, Undyne didn't try to force you out. 

You didn't know it then, but you wouldn't see your parents again for a long, long time after that.

***

If the visit from your parents accomplished anything, it was that it made suicide seem like a less appealing option. You hadn't considered what your mom and dad would think, how it might affect them...

You just hadn't thought it through at all.

The voices tried to convince you that it didn't matter. But their logic was disjointed and muffled... You couldn't follow it, even if you tried. 

You wanted the voices to stop. Everything else, you felt you could deal with. The dissociation, the panic attacks, the aversion to reflective surfaces. That stuff wasn't pleasant, but you thought you could learn to hide it well enough to fool Sans into thinking you were better. But the voices had to go. They made everything else worse. 

On top of that, they'd had a part to play in what you'd done to Sans... What had ultimately pushed him away from you. Eventually, you knew they would drive you to do something you would regret even more. Even if getting rid of them wasn't enough to convince Sans to take you back, you still wanted them under control for your own sake.

If you could just get your magic to work, you were sure that would help. But the more Undyne's methods failed, the more you felt like nothing was ever going to work. Not unless you did as the book said and got "in touch with your soul." Whatever that meant.

One night, while sitting on the floor in your room, you had an idea. You very much did not want _anyone_ seeing your soul; you were still firm on that. But what if you just took it out in the privacy of your own room? Did that count toward getting in touch with it? After all, Undyne had said it would be easier to do magic with your soul exposed...

Your heart raced as you thought about it. You didn't... _like_ the idea of seeing it, yourself. There was something utterly vile about the black mass at its center. You were reluctant to face it. But it was in you, anyway. It wasn't like seeing it was going to change the fact that it was there. 

You splayed your legs out in front of you and ran your hands over your thighs soothingly. The whispers weren't there now. You felt relatively clear-headed. Now was a good time to try. 

Fingers trembling with trepidation, you placed a hand over your chest and lifted. You closed your eyes just before the clicks finished and your soul emerged. You felt it leave your body... That strange, floating sensation that left you feeling vulnerable. But there was no one around to see it and judge you. It was like being naked in your home with the shades drawn and the doors locked. It felt taboo at first but, the longer you sat there and just let it be, the more comfortable you felt. 

Once your heart settled down into an even rhythm, you opened your eyes. Your soul was just how you left it... Disgusting and evil and _wrong_. 

No, no... You couldn't think like that. You couldn't imagine that was very productive to getting in touch with it. But you couldn't help the curl in your lip as you watched the black storm swirling inside of your heart. If it weren't for that disease, none of this would've happened. Your life wouldn't have spiralled out of control. Sans wouldn't have left you. 

You stared at it for a while, giving in and letting yourself feel your revulsion. You projected hatred onto your soul, staring at it as if the mere intensity of your gaze might make it shrivel up and die. However, like with the initial feeling of vulnerability, the disgust had to wane over time. Slowly, your shoulders slumped and your fierce expression dropped into one of tired, reluctant acceptance. 

This was the way things were now. It was the way things were always going to be. You felt like you had no control over the trajectory of your life. You hadn't had control for a long time... At least since stepping into the void, if not before then. The nightmares, visions, impulses, hallucinations... As if written in stone, they were destined to happen from the minute Gaster put his greedy, selfish hands on you.

You wanted to take control back.

Without thinking about what you were doing or why, you reached out and touched your own soul. You had never done that before. Never had a reason to. When you made contact, the feeling was like no other. Suddenly, every sensation you experienced was heightened to its maximum. You had never felt so many things so strongly before. 

Your heartbeat sounded like the beat of a basey drum, reverberating through each and every one of your ribs. The vibration was almost like music... The beat to which the rest of your body played along. From the _whoosh!_ of freshly oxygenated blood flowing through your aorta to the tingle of pressure as it squeezed through your capillaries, your heart seemed to set the pace for everything else.

You felt the negative pressure in your chest as your diaphragm contracted, pulling air down into your lungs like water flowing helplessly downhill. You felt the waves of peristalsis in your intestines, pushing your dinner through your digestive tract as if on a conveyor belt. Experimentally, you shifted your leg to a more comfortable position. The feeling of powerful muscles contracting, tendons pulling, and metal joints working in synchronicity with organic bone was almost intoxicating.

That was to say nothing of how you felt emotionally. The feelings originating from chemicals in your brain, getting sorted out and amplified in your soul, and returning to your brain now that you were touching the soul started a positive feedback loop that built in intensity until it was overwhelming. The tired revulsion you already felt toward yourself ramped up to absolutely sickening abhorrence within a matter of seconds. 

_"You're an abomination."_ A voice... _Gaster's_ voice, who were you kidding anymore? Said to you with cold certainty. _"Look at yourself."_

You did. You'd closed your eyes again at some point, but you reopened them to see your fingers brushing up against the mutilated corpse of what was once your soul. Could you even call it yours anymore, when there was nothing of you left in it?

No... It _was_ yours. As long as your consciousness was around to ask those questions, it was you. It wasn't the same anymore... _You_ weren't the same anymore... But that was just the way it was now. Every bit of that soul was a part of you, like it or not. What was it that Sans had said? The part of you that used to be yours... That was in Sans now. It was his, just like the part of him that was in you belonged to you. And the _other_ part of you was in...

It wasn't fair. You wanted it back... _All_ of it. But that wasn't going to happen. This was the way you were now.

"Maybe," you answered the voice in a whisper. You felt your vocal cords vibrating and air rushing through your trachea as you spoke. "But that's just who I am now."

In lieu of a response, you felt Gaster's invisible hands on your body. You felt it more intensely than ever. Goosebumps raised on your arm as his fingers trailed up it, getting closer to your soul. He cupped the back of your hand in his, his fingers devastatingly close to brushing the dim, white light of your soul. It felt so real that, even though your own eyes were telling you there was nothing there, you didn't believe them.

 _"No,"_ he said directly in your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, _"You belong to me. You are nothing anymore. You are mine."_

"NO!"

As you shouted, a burst of energy exploded in your mind. His hand on yours disappeared, as did the last echos of his voice. The buzz continued to tingle in your brain even after it had done its job. But, though you willed it to stay and protect you, it slowly faded away until the spark snuffed itself out.

Feeling unable to take this anymore, you snatched your hand back, cutting contact with your soul. You didn't get the usual nausea that happened when you stopped touching Sans' soul, but you were still left shaking from the experience. You swiped a hand over your forehead. It came back damp with sweat. 

Once your racing heart calmed down and your tense muscles relaxed, you were left wondering if that had been productive or not. That wasn't the first time your elusive magic had rescued you from a hallucination, so the experience hadn't been unique in that sense. But, when you looked at your soul now, you didn't feel quite as afraid of it. And you realized now that you _had_ been afraid. The fear had been disguised as disgust, but that was really where it originated. Now that you'd touched it, you felt like you knew it better. It was still a foreign intruder, but one that you could at least recognize. Like getting a diagnosis for a terminal illness, you were just glad you didn't have to wonder in the dark anymore.

You nodded to yourself, then guided your soul back into your chest. It wasn't warm, but it didn't feel as sinister as usual.

***

You made this a routine. Every night, you took your soul out. You couldn't always bring yourself to touch it, but you at least looked at it. You weren't sure if it was helping and almost gave up on the endeavor... Until you saw progress during training with Undyne.

Her latest plan to get you to do magic was to make you describe how it had felt when you'd done it successfully as Orion. You supposed it was as good an idea as any; if you could recapture that feeling, maybe it would trigger something for you. Per Undyne's request, you sat down on the matted floor and closed your eyes before describing it to her.

"It was like... Like holding water in my hands. But my hands were bigger back then. Now, it all just slips away. Like there's too much for me to hold..."

"Don't tell me about why you CAN'T do it! Tell me why you CAN!!!" You furrowed your brow, struggling to come up with a reason.

"Because I... I've done it before. It wasn't even hard back then. It was like flexing a muscle."

"Yeah!" Undyne said excitedly. She always had a way of getting more pumped for you than you were for yourself. "So do it! FLEX THAT MUSCLE!!!"

It was weird. Undyne had ordered you to do magic before, but that strategy had never worked in the past. Now, though, something clicked. Like rediscovering the muscle you'd forgotten you had, you clenched down on something in your mind and _did_ it. It wasn't the big explosion of energy you'd been braced for, but more of a snap of static electricity. You had your eyes closed, so you couldn't see what you'd done, but you felt something tingly and half-physical winding around your arms. When you opened your eyes to see what it was, it had already disappeared. Like cupped water spilling out of your hands. 

Undyne whooped and pumped her fist triumphantly, so you had to assume it had been something decently cool. 

"What did I do?" you asked, holding up your hands to examine your forearms. They looked as normal as ever.

"CHAINS! You can summon chains! Oh my god, chain whips are so BADASS!!! Do it again!!!"

You spent the rest of that day alternating between trying to summon your weapon again and learning the basics behind how to use a chain whip. While you swung a practice leash around to get used to the weight, Undyne explained what was so special about magical weapons.

"Not everyone can make them... It's kind of a rare form of magic, actually. They act a lot like regular weapons, with two main differences." She held up a finger, " _One_ is that you can't get hurt by your own weapon. It'll either disappear or pass right through you." She held up a second finger. " _Two_ is that you can control where it goes with your mind... To some extent. Like how Papyrus can make his bones pop up anywhere! Or how I can make my spear come at you from behind!"

"Cool," you said with a genuine smile. You hadn't really expected to be able to do anything other than make shortcuts. Even though you hadn't managed to replicate it yet, you felt proud of your achievement. Pride wasn't something you felt very often anymore.

Emboldened by the progress, you doubled down on the whole soul meditation thing you had going on. You didn't tell Undyne the secret to your success; it felt like something private that you wanted to keep to yourself. Slowly, you started to see it as less of an experimental duty and more as an enjoyable part of your routine. The sight of your soul no longer elicited feelings of disdain or frustration. At worst, it made you feel tired. At best, it was soothing to the touch. 

You'd been right to think that making progress on your magic would help you control the hallucinations. It didn't work every time, and it wasn't something you could keep up with 24/7. But, when the whispers got particularly bad, you could draw on that newly discovered muscle to try and chase them away. Even when it didn't work, just having _some_ way of fighting back was enough to give you hope. You managed to keep it together well enough that you didn't have any serious mental breakdowns in front of Undyne or Alphys, which had always been the goal.

Your apparent progress led to increased freedom and interaction with other people. You weren't stupid... Since realizing that Papyrus had been tasked with making sure you made it out of the Underground on that first day, it was easy to see how your friends were trying to secretly keep an eye on you. Unlike Sans, who never made you do anything you didn't want to do, they continuously pushed the boundaries of what you were comfortable with by coercing you into trying new things. Well, "new" was relative, as they were all things the old you had enjoyed doing regularly, but that you now dreaded. From having tea with Asgore to going window shopping in New Home with your friends, everything that you were pressured into doing involved faking normalcy to more and more people. It was exhausting, and you were surprised you hadn't screwed it up yet.

Not that you never came close. One such moment of... questionable behavior occurred when you were at Asgore's house. It was just the two of you this time; Alphys was working late at the lab, Undyne had some emergency she had to respond to in Snowdin, and Papyrus was, presumably, having dinner at Toriel's house. With Sans. You'd seen the two of them walking over there together just before heading out of the house, yourself. It was the first time you'd even seen Sans since he'd dumped you on Undyne and Alphys. You'd been frozen at the window, hiding yourself partially behind the curtains as you stared, transfixed, at him walking down the road. He'd looked distracted. Papyrus had been talking animatedly, but you could tell Sans had hardly been listening.You'd watched them until they disappeared out of your field of view.

Maybe that was why you were in a funk from the moment you arrived at Asgore's place. You sat at the table with your chin on your hands, staring blankly at the bowl of soup and the fresh, buttered biscuit in front of you. Asgore wasn't any good at cooking; you didn't usually eat over at his place, but you assumed he'd prepared dinner for you today because he knew you wouldn't feed yourself otherwise. But the soup and biscuits looked well-made... You recognized it as a recipe of Toriel's. Had she given Asgore some of her leftovers? Was she feeding Sans and Papyrus the same meal tonight? 

"...May not be finished until June, unless the weather improves significantly."

You blinked. You must've zoned out, because you only caught the end of whatever Asgore had been saying to you. 

"What?" you asked automatically, then mentally chastised yourself for not just playing along and pretending you'd been listening. You'd gotten pretty good at doing that recently. Asgore finished swallowing the spoonful of soup he'd been blowing on, then patiently explained,

"The Northwest tower. The storms we have been getting recently have hampered progress on its repairs. Perhaps it is for the best... The guards are getting longer breaks now, as there are only three towers to be guarded."

"Hmm," you hummed noncommittally while swirling your spoon in the brothy soup. "Leaves the North and West borders more vulnerable, though."

"True, but there has not been any trouble at the borders in a long time. The human protestors seem to have lost steam, and the monsters who live up here have so far been perfectly respectful of the borders." Asgore took a bite of his biscuit, then said with an exaggerated rub of his stomach, "Mmm, these are delicious. You should try one."

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, instead picking up your biscuit and dutifully taking a bite. Asgore was right... It was quite good. You took another bite.

"I am considering suggesting that we reduce the number of guards to just two. One at the Northeast tower, and one at the Southwest. I believe it is unnecessary to have two people watching each border nowadays. What do you think?"

You realized, then, what he was doing. He was asking for your advice as if you were still the ambassador. You paused in your eating. Was he testing the waters? Considering letting you return to work? Slowly, you nibbled on your biscuit again, considering the question thoughtfully.

"Maybe..." Suddenly, an idea came to you, which made you sit up straighter in your chair. "Maybe we could install security cameras to keep an eye on the border remotely. It would probably be too expensive for humans to wire all of that up, but I bet Alphys could do it easily." She'd managed to spread cameras all over the Underground, after all... You imagined she would have no problem doing the same thing along the border. You didn't know if Asgore knew about that, however, so you didn't bring up that specific example. Still, he gave you a huge smile.

"That is an excellent idea. I will ask her about it the next time I see her."

There was a lull in the conversation after that. You finished your biscuit and grabbed another from the plate between you and Asgore. You even tried a bit of the soup. You could confirm by the taste that Toriel must've made it; it tasted way too good for Asgore's cooking skill level. You let your wandering mind travel down that rabbit hole again until, abruptly, you realized a terrible oversight you'd made. You dropped your spoon in the half-empty bowl with a loud clatter. Asgore looked up at you and blinked.

"What is the matter?"

"I... never apologized to you and Toriel," you said with a horrified expression. You stared at your soup, unable to make eye contact with Asgore. "About Frisk and how I just... stopped trying to get them back..."

You buried your head in your hands, mortified at your own actions. Or, rather, inaction. Consumed by your own turmoil as you were, you had completely given up on Frisk. Aside from a half-hearted search for a lawyer, you'd done nothing to fight for the kid you'd promised you'd protect. Your stomach twisted with shame. If you'd only been calmer with Reives, maybe you could've persuaded him to let you have Frisk back, or at least give you visitation...

You heard the scrape of Asgore's chair as he stood up, then his footsteps as he walked around the table and crouched down next to you.

"There, there..." He patted your back in a way that would've felt stilted and awkward if it was anyone else. From Asgore, however, the gesture felt genuine. "We know you did the best you could under the circumstances. You gave us all an extra two months with Frisk that we would not have had otherwise. For that, we are grateful."

A hot, boiling anger simmered in your gut. It wasn't directed at yourself, or even at Reives...

You were angry at Sans.

It was his fault Frisk was gone. He'd made you think it was Reives when, really, it was him all along. You hadn't really thought about it since the truth had come out, but it was just so selfish. Everyone here loved that kid... Even if they weren't being abused or neglected somewhere in the foster system, he was still causing heartache to everyone who cared about them. Was he really sorry, as he claimed he was? Or was he just sorry that it had hurt your feelings? Did he still feel justified in what he'd done?

You thought you knew the answer, and it frustrated you. In that moment, you considered telling Asgore, just so that _someone_ would hold him accountable. Maybe he'd feel sorry then. But, ultimately, you still couldn't bring yourself to do that to him. The anger fizzled out and died less than a minute after it reared its ugly head. 

You couldn't go against his wishes. You'd made so many bad decisions in the past that you were conditioned to trust Sans over yourself. Even now, you were going along with what he'd decided for you by complying with Undyne and Alphys' recovery plan. At some point, the tables had turned as far as who was really in control. It disturbed you that you couldn't pinpoint when it had happened. 

For now, all you could do was accept Asgore's forgiveness and try to ignore the little, whispering voices telling you that you didn't have ownership over yourself anymore. You were torn in two, and you didn't like the possessive hands that either part of you was in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Look at how cool chain whips are.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=whuBjeGxQig) I would try to learn how to use them if I wasn't certain I'd hurt myself in the process.
> 
> There was a hint in CYB that Reed would have this power... Do you remember it? :3


	45. Wretched, Dirty Soul

After that first major breakthrough, you continued to progress in your training at a steady pace. It wasn't just magic, though that was certainly part of it. Undyne had you doing things that you had never been allowed to do before. Pull ups, curls, bench presses... The sort of stuff your childhood doctor had forbidden, despite there being nothing significantly wrong with your arms. You were beginning to realize that you'd been kept in a bit of a bubble as a kid, led to believe that anything physically demanding was impossible for you. Maybe you weren't as good at it, and maybe you dislocated your shoulder a couple times and needed to get it healed by Papyrus, but it all felt worth it when you started noticing improvement.

Undyne taught you elements of various fighting styles, though it was trickier to get around your disability with those. At first, she was excited to teach you how to use your cane in battle, but the fact remained that you needed it to lean on. You couldn't go swinging it around all the time. Still, beating a punching bag with your cane was fun in moderation. It got less fun and more frustrating when you quickly lost steam and started tripping yourself up from the force of your own swings.

What ended up working best for you was a more defensive style, which involved mostly standing your ground and using your opponent's own momentum against them. That, too, was pretty satisfying, as you got to slam Undyne to the ground over and over. You hadn't thought it possible, but by grabbing her wrist and twisting a certain way you were capable of throwing her over your shoulder with less effort that you would've expected. 

As far as your magic went, the progress with that was a little slower. You managed to bring your chains back for brief periods of time, though never long enough to do anything with them. You still had yet to make a shortcut on command, too. But none of that mattered much to you... All you cared about was being able to beat away the hallucinations, which was well within your wheelhouse. In the span of a week, you mastered the art of gathering your magic near to your soul well enough to chase the hallucinations away almost every time. They were either cowardly or weak, because it didn't take much to get them to scatter.

You felt like you were waking up. But not from a restful sleep. More like you were waking up from what you had intended to be a 20 minute power nap that had turned into a full eight hours without your say-so. Your mind felt clearer, but still drowsy. It was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because, the clearer your mind was, the easier it was to act more normal around everyone else. But a curse because... You didn't know where to go from here.

Obviously, getting back together with Sans was the number one priority. But then what? 

There was still... _him._

As long as he was around, you would always have something looming over you. Even if Sans managed to excise the blackness from your soul, it wouldn't change the fact that he was still out there. You could guard his points of access to the outside world, but that couldn't last forever. You had no plan... No hope of ever stopping him permanently. Even if you had a chance of... of _killing_ him, as Reives had suggested you should do, just the thought of trying brought you to your knees with fear. You could never face him again. But you had to do _something._ It was a paradox from which you had no escape.

So you simply tried not to think about it. You were sane enough to recognize that you were too fucked in the head to do anything about it at this point, anyway. You still couldn't even look at your own reflection yet. Baby steps.

You buried yourself in the Royal Guard training because, against all odds, it was actually something you legitimately enjoyed. Three weeks into your training, you graduated up to light, weaponless sparring with Undyne. So far, you had yet to be able to pin her on the ground when she was really trying to beat you. But, one day, you took her by surprise by breaking out of her headlock and throwing her into the fence that lined the arena. She was briefly disoriented by the sudden change in direction, but shook herself and shot you a huge smile.

"Ha! Good one! Y'know, I might actually make you a Royal Guard one day!" You caught your breath and took a few steps back, well aware that the game was still afoot. You quirked a half-grin in return.

"Wasn't that the plan all along?" you teased. You'd known from the beginning that the whole Royal Guard schtick was just an excuse to get you out of the house. You weren't nearly so prideful to be offended that it had worked. 

"Whatever!" Undyne snarled, then charged at you with renewed vigor. 

That one-off exchange seemed to have held more weight than you realized, though. Because the next day, Undyne and Papyrus took you to get fitted for armor.

"We're going where, exactly?" you asked from the comfort of your bike as you rolled at a leisurely pace down the streets of New Home. Undyne and Papyrus were just behind you, jogging to keep up. They liked running and you liked biking, so it was a win-win. 

"The Royal Armory!" Undyne shouted at you, not at all out of breath despite the fact that she'd kept up this pace since you left camp. She held out her arm and pointed vigorously. "RIGHT!"

Obediently, you veered right down an empty, shady-looking alleyway. The reason for its desertedness was clear; there were only two storefronts down this short path. One was a shabby, windowless building with a faded sign declaring it "The Salty Toad," while the other bore the Delta Rune on its door. You stopped abruptly in front of the latter, planting your feet on the ground for extra braking power. 

"WE HAVE ARRIVED!!!" Papyrus exclaimed, "Ooooh sibling, this is one of my favorite places! I am so excited! It feels like only yesterday that I was fitted for my first suit of armor... It has served me so well that I have had no reason to return since!" He thumped his fist over his breastplate, as though that demonstrated the fine craftsmanship. You, however, knew absolutely nothing about armor, and had no idea if the hollow _Clang!_ sound it made was a good thing.

"This place must not see much business, huh?" you asked a little nervously while dismounting your bike. The placement of the shop in a dark corner of New Home gave it a creepy vibe. You were more wary of simply walking right into new places nowadays.

"Nope!" Undyne declared before thumping you on the back and marching over to the door. "Come on, we don't have all day!!!"

You had little choice in the matter other than to follow Undyne and Papyrus into the armory. However, when you pushed past the heavy, wooden door and walked onto the threshold, you found that you had severely misjudged the place. You had been expecting a tiny, drab interior, but were surprised to find that it looked more like Alphys' lab than a medieval armory; brightly lit and sterile in appearance. The shop was narrow, but it stretched so far back that you suspected the back door probably exited into the next alley down the block. 

The buzz of magic, which you felt you were becoming more sensitive to as of late, was all around. Magical flames somehow trapped heat in the forges, which lined one wall behind the service counter. This kept the shop at room temperature, though you could tell the fire within was swelteringly hot by how it made the iron swords and sheets of metal glow bright red. Speaking of which, the various works in progress seemed to move about the room and craft themselves of their own accord. Weapons whizzed past each other in the air, darting between the forges and anvils with their self-sufficient, swinging hammers. Whoever was coordinating this intricate, levitating dance had to be a powerful magic user. It all felt a bit unsafe to you, but all of the action seemed to be contained behind the counter. You wouldn't get decapitated by a stray flying sword... Probably.

"Aha! If it isn't the leader of the Royal Guard, herself!" The exuberant voice came from above. You looked up, and were horrified to see what could only be described as a giant millipede scuttling around on the ceiling. The reason for the size of the room was now apparent; the monster's body was so long that he easily spanned half the length of the shop. With many hundreds of legs, he scurried over to the wall and used it to descend to the floor. By the time he approached the three of you, a quarter of his body was still on the the ceiling.

You weren't usually so taken aback by the sight of monsters anymore, but this one was an exception. You couldn't help taking several steps back, putting yourself well behind Undyne and Papyrus. You weren't exactly afraid of insects, but you were certain no human could've laid eyes on this guy without at least flinching. The monster reared his head up and seemed to peer at you, though he had no eyes that you could see.

"MILLIE! Good to see ya!" Undyne roared, then fist-bumped one of the monster's many legs. Or were they arms? You weren't sure. Regardless, the name Millie seemed a little on-the-nose to you. That wasn't so unusual down here, though.

"...And Papyrus! Dear boy, do you ever take that armor off?" Millie's antennae twitched with amusement. True to form, Papyrus was decked out in his full Royal Guard regalia, even though Undyne was in street clothes. He puffed out his chest and said proudly,

"No, siree! You never know when you might need to leap into battle! I am always prepared!!!" There was a sort of clicking, hissing sound that took you a moment to identify as Millie's laugh. He turned to you again.

"The ambassador. Yes, I know who you are," he clarified upon seeing the surprise on your face. "People talk a lot about you, you know! Good... and bad."

"Great," you mumbled, though Millie only clicked once and swung his head back to face Undyne.

"To what do I owe the pleasure? Has Greater Dog chewed through his greaves again?"

"Not yet!" Undyne reached back and slapped you on the shoulder. "This one's here for their first set of armor!"

"Hmm." Millie scuttled forward, closing the distance between the two of you. You stood stiff as a board as he skittered around you, encircling you with his long body. The rest of his back end dropped off of the wall as he did so. When he got back around to face you, he tilted his head at Undyne and asked, "For what purpose?"

"Just, um, protection," you blurted out before Undyne could answer. When confronted with someone outside of your immediate friend group, you were struck with how silly the whole plan to get you into the Guard sounded. During training yesterday, it hadn't seemed so impossible. Now, though, you had already lost that spark of confidence. 

"Mhmm," Millie hummed, his antennae twitching back and forth. "Well, with no advanced notice, I will have to dig something up from my existing stock. But, then again, you have a standard number of limbs. A bit small, but I am sure I have options..."

You were a little offended by the size comment, but Millie didn't seem to have been talking to you anymore. He said no more before darting off behind the counter. Thinking fast, Papyrus reached over and lifted you up so that you didn't get tripped by the armorer's long body.

As it turned out, Millie had several complete suits of armor already made in roughly your size and body shape. You said "roughly," because there was always something wrong with each one. You would've been content to settle for something that was a little big or included an unnecessary tail piece, but Undyne and Papyrus insisted on perfection. Halfway through, you realized that this reminded you of something. You felt, ridiculously, like you were picking out a wedding dress.

"Ugh! No!!!" Undyne protested as you shuffled around in a circle for her to see the latest suit of armor you were trying on. It was so heavy that you could barely move in it. "Too bulky! Next!"

You clicked your tongue, starting to get annoyed by this whole process. It took ages to put an entire suit on, and just as long to take it off. You'd been letting Undyne and Papyrus do all of the talking but, after this rejection, you were finally worn down enough that you turned to Millie and expressed your own opinion for the first time.

"Don't you have something a bit lighter? This is all too... much." You raised your arms up as high as you could get them, then let them flop back down at your side. The armor creaked in protest as you moved. "I want something I can move in... Something that I can put on and take off by myself in less than five minutes."

"Hmm..." The armorer scratched his antenna with one of his front legs. "There is something special I have been refining... It was meant for someone else, though I suppose I could make another." Reluctantly, Millie darted into the back of the shop and rummaged around among his collection. 

What he came back with was, indeed, much lighter. When he shoved it into your arms, you didn't feel burdened by the weight. In fact, it didn't feel like it had any weight at all. The chainmail tickled the skin on your fingertips, tipping you off to the fact that it was imbued with magic. 

"Oh, what is this?!?" Papyrus snatched the chainmail armor from you and held it up to his face for examination. "Magic armor?!? INGENIOUS!" 

"Yes, very astute," Millie rumbled, amused, as he worked on divesting you of the clunky armor you were currently wearing. You tried not to shudder as his many legs worked the straps loose. "It is as light as they come. Chainmail is not known for its durability, I am afraid, which is why I do not typically recommend it. But, if you refrain from overusing it..." His antennae swiveled to point at Papyrus in a subtle accusation. "...It should serve you well enough. Here, try it on without assistance." 

He took the armor back from Papyrus and handed it to you. Without too much difficulty, you were able to figure out how it worked. The first half slipped over your shoulders like a robe. The only immovable part was a plate of metal over your chest, which bore a black Delta Rune symbol. A leather strap cinched the armor snugly around your waist, which left a skirt-like overhang to cover your thighs. Chainmail greaves went over your lower legs, while two small plates of metal protected your knees. It fit you well, though it seemed to have been made for someone a bit smaller than you. You had to use the very first hole in all of the straps, but everything was adjustable enough that it wasn't a problem.

Undyne whooped when you turned around to show her, which was a relief. Papyrus gasped and covered his mouth with his hands.

"Sibling... You look so... Cool!" You laughed nervously and rolled your eyes. You were pretty tired of being gawked at, and were glad you finally found something Undyne-approved so that you could all move on with your lives. Millie put several legs on your shoulder and turned you back around to face him.

"Yes, should be serviceable, I think. I have not finished the helmet yet, however. I would advise avoiding blows to the head."

"Duly noted," you said in a monotone. You grabbed your cane, which you had propped against the corner of the room, and were amused that it matched the slightly iridescent metal of your armor. "What do I owe you?"

"If this is Royal Guard business..." His head swiveled over to glance at Undyne. "...Then nothing. I work in service of the King."

"Oh. Thank you," you said awkwardly, to which Millie replied bluntly,

"You would not have been able to afford it, anyway." You shrugged, figuring that was probably a fair assessment. Suddenly, Undyne snapped her fingers and declared,

"Wait a minute! You haven't even looked at it yet! You should see it on yourself, first!" You looked down at the armor. Then, realizing what she was saying, you shook your head vigorously.

"No, no... I can see it just fine from here." Millie scuttled off across the room. Dutiful to Undyne and heedless of your protests, he grabbed what you had originally thought to be a tack board on wheels and turned it around to reveal a full-length mirror. 

All at once, you were face-to-face with your reflection. Blood seemed to drain from your body, leaving you cold and empty. You looked like a different person in the armor... Stoic and guarded. But no amount of chainmail could protect you from your own mind.

Almost immediately after locking eyes with your mirror image, you knew something was off. It was smiling, and you weren't. You didn't see the signature black smoke or black eyes, but you knew who was talking when your reflection raised its hands and signed in ASL,

_"I see you."_

You screwed up. For a moment, you forgot your training and simply panicked. You let out a short, strangled scream before throwing yourself backward into the wall. You turned away from the mirror and clutched your head, the chainmail armor rattling as you were struck by full-body shivers. 

All in all, it could've been worse. You could've lashed out at someone or been inconsolable for hours. The attack was brief, though; you remembered where you were and who you were the moment Papyrus' hand touched your shoulder.

"Sibling? Are you alright???" You moved your hand to cover the side of your face, making a blinder so that you couldn't see the mirror.

"Put it away," you choked, unable to control your shaking despite the fact that you knew you were being unreasonable. "Please... I don't wanna see..." Before you were even done talking, you heard the squeaking of wheels as someone did as you requested. Hesitantly, you peered between your fingers to see that Millie had turned the mirror back around to face the wall. You breathed a sigh of relief and stood up a little straighter.

"What was that all about?" Undyne asked, her hands on her hips. You didn't know what to say. Your hand clenched tightly around your cane as you struggled to think of a believable lie.

"N-nothing. I just... Have a bit of a phobia. Of mirrors." Really, that wasn't far off from the truth. But Undyne still raised her brow at you skeptically. Eager to put this incident behind you, you continued, "I'm fine now, let's just get going. I, uh... Told Asgore I'd meet him for tea." _That_ was a lie, but you were sure Asgore would brew you a cup even if you showed up at his house uninvited. You were counting on it, anyway.

"Give the King my warmest regards," Millie instructed you. His expression was unreadable, though that was probably due to him having no discernable face.

"Will do. Thanks again." As you spoke, you were already halfway to the door. Without further ado, you pulled it open and walked out into the alleyway. By the time Papyrus and Undyne caught up with you, you had already swung your leg onto your bike.

"Hey."

You flinched when a hand landed on your shoulder. You turned in your seat to see Undyne behind you. Papyrus was a little ways back, watching you while wringing his hands nervously.

"Yeah?" you asked, putting on your best fake smile. Undyne wasn't buying it; she looked uncharacteristically serious as she said,

"You can tell us when something's wrong... You know that, right? We can help!"

She sounded so sincere that you almost caved in. You had no idea what you would've said if you did... It wasn't like you could tell her anything of substance without spilling the beans about Gaster. And you couldn't tell her anything, even if it wasn't a secret. You had to convince her that you were getting better. You had to convince _everyone_ that you were okay, or risk delaying your return to Sans. So you shook your head and brushed her hand off of your shoulder gently.

"Really, I'm fine."

***

You felt a little off after that. More so than usual. You had to be extra careful now not to have an episode in front of any of your friends. You'd slipped up once, and that was bad enough. You had to be better than that.

But, predictably, just _wanting_ to be normal wasn't enough to make it so. If that was the case, none of this would've ever happened. 

On top of that constant anxiety, you felt that progress on your training had come to a grinding halt. Undyne had originally wanted to get you your armor so that you could practice in it and get used to its weight but, not only had Millie warned you against using it frivolously, the armor was weightless, anyway. So there was no need to practice in it. 

Instead of teaching you to use the armor, Undyne doubled down on magic training. She didn't say it, but both of you knew that hand-to-hand combat would only get you so far in a scuffle. You were limited on what you could do without risking injury to yourself. If you wanted to have a chance in a real fight, you'd have to get better at using your magic. 

But you felt like you'd hit a wall when it came to that part of your training. You were still only sometimes able to summon your chains, and only for a few seconds at that. Before the armory incident, you'd been content with that. But now, you felt like you needed to impress Undyne to make up for the momentary lapse in sanity she'd witnessed. No matter how hard you tried, though, you couldn't do any better.

The constant failures led to self-loathing, which led to more failures in a continuous downward spiral that didn't help your fragile psyche... Which was the original problem, to begin with. You found yourself zoning out more often. Usually at night, when you weren't kept busy doing other things. Without any conscious thought, you started going for walks while you were in these fugue states. You would snap out of it and find yourself in the middle of the woods, or sitting in your parked car (which hadn't been moved in over a month), or pacing up and down the street. This was probably unsafe, though you cared more about how it looked to potential onlookers than your own personal safety. Thankfully, this always occurred in the late hours of the evening, so you didn't think anyone had noticed yet... Except perhaps the night shift guards.

One night, you came to abruptly and found yourself in the middle of New Home. You stopped in your tracks, confused and disoriented. You'd never wandered this far before. But the tall, gray buildings and wide, cobblestone streets were unmistakable, even if you had never seen them at night before. 

With the artificial sunlight turned off, you could start to see how the monsters might've gone so crazy being trapped down here that they thought murdering seven children sounded like an acceptable solution to their problem. Even with the yellow street lights keeping the road visible, the lack of celestial bodies in the sky caused the darkness to be utterly smothering. You could see absolutely nothing past the main road, which made New Home feel so much smaller than it actually was. 

Slowly, you limped further down the road, too daunted by how long it would take you to walk all the way home to begin the journey. In your daze, you had neglected to take your cane. So your legs were already painful and shaking, threatening to send you crashing to the ground at a moment's notice. You really needed to find someplace to sit...

You looked at your watch and saw that it was half-past midnight. What would be open at this time of night? Surely something had to be, because the streets weren't empty. They weren't busy, either, but you passed clusters of people every now and then. People who were leaning against each other, conversing loudly with lopsided smiles. Were they... drunk? 

It seemed strange to you that there was alcohol in the Underground, but you supposed it made sense. Grillby's had a bar, after all. You'd just never seen a drunk monster before, and must've assumed they were too wholesome for that. How stupid... You should've known better by now.

Desperate to find somewhere to sit where you wouldn't draw unwanted attention, you followed the trail of drunk people until you reached its source. You were surprised to find that you were led to a familiar place; the Royal Armory. On the other side of the alley was The Salty Toad... Which, of course, had to be a bar. With a name like that, you weren't sure what you had thought it was when you'd first seen it. Sure enough, as you hovered under the single street light that illuminated the entrance to the alley, you watched a rabbit and a fish monster stumble out of the establishment with interlocked arms. Figuring you had little else to lose, you stuffed your hands in the pockets of Sans' hoodie and pushed through the door.

You were surprised at how similar the interior of The Salty Toad looked to the average human bar. You didn't usually drink, yourself; you had too many embarrassing stories to tell about your alcoholic uncle to make the prospect of getting drunk seem appealing. But you had been in enough bars with your college friends to know that this was one of the trashier kinds. Your shoes stuck to the floor with every step, and the place was utterly packed to the brim with people who were obviously primarily there to get wasted, not to have a good time. 

The fact that it was so crowded was actually a benefit to you. You were able to slip past people without getting any weird looks, since no one could lay eyes on you long enough to realize you were the only human there. You squeezed through the crowd until you made it to the bar where, thankfully, there was an open stool. It was wet with someone's spilled drink, but you didn't care. You used your last remaining ounce of energy to hop up onto it, sighing in relief as you were finally able to take your weight off of your sore feet.

The problem with sitting at the bar, however, was that it was the place people went when they wanted to chat with strangers. So you probably shouldn't have been surprised when the big, wolf-like monster beside you turned around and said loudly,

"Woah, hey! A human!" You looked up at him, a little intimidated by his size but reassured when you saw his tail wagging behind him.

"Uh huh," you answered unenthusiastically. The monster was undeterred by your sour mood.

"What brings you around here?" Without waiting for your response, the wolf turned around and nudged his buddy. "Hey, Drax, look at this human!" 

Drax, who looked like he might've been a relative of the sheep-like lady who'd saved you from harassment ages ago, leaned over and eyed you with beady, black eyes.

"You ain't that one who moved into the house in Snowdin, are ya?" You blinked. You had to think for a minute before you realized he was talking about Green. It was terrible, but you'd completely forgotten that the guard had moved into Papyrus' old house. You wondered how he was doing...

The wolf man suddenly snapped his fingers and yelped excitedly.

"No, man! This is the ambassador! Right???"

"That's me," you muttered, putting your chin on your hand while you rested your elbow on the bar. Your lean forward was apparently an unintentional indication that you wanted a drink, because the serpent bartender slithered over to you expectantly.

"Oh, I don't want-"

"Get this kid a shot of toad piss!" The wolf barked with a wide grin. "It's on me!"

"Uh..." You hesitated too long, and the shot glass was in front of you before you could protest. The name of the drink, combined with the acidic scent of the yellow liquid inside, was far from appetizing. You were about to refuse, but then again... Maybe self-medicating wasn't such a bad idea. It hadn't worked for your uncle after his divorce, but things couldn't get much worse for you. Getting so drunk that you forgot where and who you were sounded like as good a plan as any at the moment.

So, with some trepidation, you closed your eyes and tipped the entire drink down the hatch. It actually wasn't as bad as you had been expecting. You only tasted a brief flash of lemon and burning alcohol before it was gone. 

The wolf man whooped with joy and thumped you on the back with a giant paw. You coughed from the force of it.

"Hey, you're alright!" The guy said, despite you only having said four words to him, maximum. You laughed and rolled your eyes. 

"Sure, dude."

For the next hour and half, you sat at the stool and were introduced to a rotating cast of bar-goers by your new wolf friend. Ironically, you never did learn the wolf's name, though it hardly mattered to you. What mattered was that he and his friends kept buying you drinks, which you downed without question. As someone who only drank a few times before and never this much, you had no idea what your limits were. You were aware that the smart thing to do was take it slow so it would be easier to tell when you needed to call it quits, but you just didn't care. Your own health and safety was a non-issue. All that mattered was that your friends not find out about this... So that it wouldn't have a chance of getting back to Sans. 

As it stood, you ended up blowing right past the point where you were aware enough of your own drunkenness to put a stop to it. Instead, you dove headfirst into "I might not remember this in the morning" territory over the course of only an hour and a half. Therefore, it was probably a good thing that the bar closed at two, though everyone still present was quite upset about it when closing time was announced.

"Boooo!" Your wolf friend howled out in protest along with the other patrons. You hopped off of the barstool, starting the motion with the confidence of someone who could hold their liquor and ending it by falling face-first toward the floor.

"Woah there!" Despite his own drunkenness, the wolf somehow maintained his reflexes enough to snatch your arm before you could hit the ground and probably break your nose. "Man, you're waaaaaasted, haha!"

"Uh huh," you agreed as you breathed through your mouth, the room spinning around you nauseatingly. It hadn't been so bad when you were sitting...

"We gotta go... Everyone's leaving." You looked up and, sure enough, people were filing out of the bar. You groaned and leaned sideways against the monster, who wrapped his arm around your shoulders to steady you.

"'Kay," you said, though you gave no indication that you were going to start moving. The wolf dude laughed and started dragging you forward. You followed his lead compliantly. The lack of control over your own movement reminded you of Gaster manipulating your body in the void. You opened your mouth to point this similarity out to your friend, but had to close it before you could say anything as a wave of nausea overtook you. You barely managed to swallow back the pre-vomit bile to avoid throwing up.

After making it outside, which was a herculean feat in itself, the wolf guy surprised you by turning away from the brightly lit street and leading you further down the dark alley. Once you were out of the way of the flow of traffic exiting the bar, he leaned you against the brick wall and braced you there with his big hands on your shoulders.

"You okay, man?" You hiccupped, then gave him a weak thumbs-up. He laughed at you again. You chuckled, too, though you weren't sure what was so funny.

"Okay. Well, whaddya wanna do now?" Wolf guy asked you with his ears perked. You blinked slowly... You hadn't really thought about what to do _after_ you got drunk. You looked back toward the bar, watching the last stragglers stumble out onto the street.

"What 'appened to that one dude..." You snapped your fingers clumsily as you fought to remember the name. "Drax! Your buddy... Drax the sheep-boy guy..."

"Oh, he left with some chick. Weren't you there for that?" You wracked your brain, but drew a blank.

"Dunno. Don't remember..." There was a long moment of silence, as though wolf guy was expecting you to say something. When you didn't, he shrugged and said,

"Okay. We can just chill here until we decide what to do."

"Mhmm," you agreed, and wolf guy helped you slide down the wall until you were sitting on the stone floor. He sat next to you, so close that his furry shoulder and leg were pressed up against yours.

"So what brought you out here tonight?" wolf guy asked, breaking the momentary silence. "Don't get many humans down here. None, actually."

"Um... Got divorced," you blurted out your uncle's old excuse, though you knew it wouldn't hold up under even the slightest scrutiny. You were famous enough that people probably knew you were never married. And, regardless, you were absurdly young to have gotten married and divorced already. Still, wolf guy didn't connect the dots on your lie and instead said curiously,

"Oh, so you're single? Cool." You wrinkled your nose in distaste. Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out,

"Yeah. Fuck Sans. Who does he think he is? Can't just leave..." You trailed off into incomprehensible muttering. 

"Yeah, fuck that! You deserve better," wolf guy agreed, though it was clear that he had no idea who you were talking about. If he did, he would know that you absolutely did not deserve better. Sans was the best damn thing that had ever happened to you, and you'd fucked it up so bad that even having souls that were irreversibly tied together wasn't enough to make him want to stay...

You sniffed once, which was the only warning you gave before the tears started to flow.

"Woah, hey, what's the matter?" Wolf guy turned so he was facing you. He leaned over you to face you head-on, bracing one hand beside your other hip to accomplish this. Had you been sober, you would've felt very uncomfortable with the closeness. As it was, you were only slightly uncomfortable, and not enough to distract from your distress.

"I'm n-never... never gonna be good... g-good enough," you choked out between sobs. In the distance, you heard the sounds of a scuffle and some drunken shouting, though you paid it no mind. Your world had narrowed down to just this dark alley and this stranger's hot, gross-smelling breath on your face.

"That's not true... I think you're pretty great." 

Before you knew what was happening, there was a furry snout pressed against your lips. Your alcohol-soaked brain seemed to stutter as it failed to process what was happening. Only when you felt the slight sting of teeth nipping at your lower lip did it catch up with reality. 

For someone who was both drunk and emotional, the punch you doled out really packed a wallop. All of that training must've done some good because, when your fist connected squarely with his jaw, the wolf monster yelped loudly in pain. While he was doubled over, you pushed him off of you and scrambled backward. You retreated further into the dark alley, your chest heaving with gasping breaths. You tried to get to your feet, only to fall on your ass and slam your back into a dumpster. 

"What the _fuck_!" the wolf guy shouted, clutching the side of his face as he staggered toward you.

"Don't touch me!" you shrieked, but the monster didn't listen. He closed the distance between you and reached down to grab your arm. Blindly, you swept your hand over the dirty ground around you, and were fortunate to find the neck of an empty glass bottle. Just as he was beginning to yank you to your feet, you swung the bottle at your assailant with all your strength. The glass didn't shatter like in the movies, but it did thunk against the guy's head in a way that sounded awfully painful. 

The monster yowled, dropped you to the floor, and reeled back. His painful groan turned into a snarling growl. It was so dark that you could only see the glint of anger in his yellow eyes. You, meanwhile, were frozen, your hands shaking with a mixture of fear and adrenaline. 

"Alright, that's it..." 

In hindsight, you should've probably tried to run. Should've thrown the bottle at the guy and at least tried to slip past him to get under the bright street lights of the main road. But your reflexes were just too slow and, even though you knew, logically, what a fight with a monster usually entailed, you weren't expecting him to raise his hand and beckon your soul out of your chest.

Before it was even fully out, you started screaming. The kind of throat-tearing, high-pitched screeches that would've made anybody's blood curdle. You barely heard yourself, though. In an instant, you were back in the void. Instead of sitting on the floor, you were lying on a table, your arms spread-eagled as though crucified. _He_ was above you. _He_ was appraising your soul hungrily. You could see his face. You could see... You could see... You could see...

"Hey! What's going on here?!?"

The sound of things going on around you... things that were incongruent with the memory... suddenly snapped you out of it. You heard a _BANG!_ and another yelp, followed by profuse apologizing.

"Oh god, I'm sorry! I dunno what's wrong with them. What the fuck happened to their-"

"Shut up!" Another yelp. Your eyes were shut tight, but you thought you recognized the newcomer's voice...

"I didn't do it, I swear! It was already like that! Please don't arrest me!"

"I know you didn't."

"Please don't arrest me..."

Someone sighed. Your heart was beating out of your chest. Your hands were clammy. The shirt you were wearing under Sans' hoodie was soaked with sweat. Too afraid of what you might see, you still couldn't bring yourself to open your eyes.

" _Never_ tell anyone what you saw here, capiche?" 

"Yeah, yeah, totally! Never ever!"

"Okay. Get outta here." There was a thump, then loud, echoing footsteps as someone ran away down the alley. Another, quieter pair of feet walked slowly in the opposite direction. You shuddered as they approached you.

"He's gone." Silence. If you opened your mouth to respond, you were certain all that would come out was another scream. You heard the creak of metal armor as its wearer crouched down in front of you. 

"What the hell happened to you...?" she muttered, sounding like she was talking more to herself than to you. A little louder, she asked, "Hey. Can you hear me?"

You nodded. The rush of adrenaline had put an abrupt end to your crying. But now, you started up again. You could feel your soul still exposed in front of you... Tears of shame rolled down your cheeks. You were mortified that anyone had seen... That Undyne was _still_ seeing...

"It... I... I didn't want anyone t-to see..." Finally, you opened your eyes, though you were barely able to recognize Undyne's silhouette through your tearful, blurred vision. She was at eye level with you, though she kept a good distance away from your soul. Your pitiful, broken soul. 

You hadn't wanted your friends to know. Was that too much to ask? It was bad enough that Alphys knew... At least she hadn't actually _seen_ it. Now Undyne...

"It's okay," she said gruffly, "Just... Take your time. Let me know when you're ready to leave." She leaned back until she plunked down on the ground, then scooched sideways until she was sitting against the wall diagonal from you. 

You watched her warily. You'd been expecting questions or reassurances, not space. You decided you were grateful for it. You stopped crying almost immediately, though the shaking took longer to subside. After a couple minutes, you were able to pull your disobedient soul back into your chest. You still felt raw and exposed, however. You couldn't bring yourself to look at Undyne.

In a dark, quiet monotone, you admitted, "I think I need help."

"...Like, with standing up?"

"No... Well, maybe." Realizing that you were still clutching the glass bottle, you tossed it aside halfheartedly. It clattered on the cobblestone, then rolled under the dumpster. "But I mean... You said you could help me before. How?"

Finally, you looked up at her. Hopeful. Maybe she had some sort of magic cure. Something to make you forget these past months had ever happened. Undyne's fin-like ears perked up.

"Oh! Yeah, sure! I mean, I can't... uh..." She trailed off, then got to her feet. She picked up again determinedly, "Well, I guess all I can do is show you what I do when I'm feeling down. Wanna try that?" 

She held out her hand to you. You took it. As she pulled you to your feet, you were reminded that you were still under the influence. Not as much anymore... Being molested seemed to have a certain sobering quality about it. But blood still pounded sluggishly in your head as your brain struggled to keep up with the sudden change in perspective. You continued to hold Undyne's hand even after you were up, swaying a little on your feet.

Without a word needing to be exchanged, Undyne crouched down and let you climb on her back. She held your legs up with her arms while you wrapped your own around her neck. She walked as though you weighed nothing, but still complained as she carried you down the street,

"Don't go expecting me to give you piggy-back rides everyday, now! Emergencies only!!!"

"Is this an emergency?" you asked, genuinely not sure. Lately, you found it hard to differentiate between what was normal and what was not.

"YES!!! You're upset! That's an emergency!!!" Her words were supportive, but her tone was that of a sargent chastising you for forgetting a drill. The way she said it made it seem so simple... Upset? Do something about it. Easy.

Though you didn't have a clue what that "something" was, you let Undyne carry you wherever. You didn't really pay attention until you realized you were approaching Undyne's house. Not the one on the surface, but the burnt-out one she was slowly working on rebuilding. Instead of taking you to the sparring arena, she plunked you down in front of all of the training equipment. It was all a little more organized now than it had been initially, though it was still cluttered enough that you weren't sure what exactly she was trying to show you until she pointed at it.

"Here!" It was a punching bag, hanging from a metal stand. You were no stranger to it; you'd mercilessly beaten the same bag with your cane back before Undyne had nixed that idea. But you were a little disappointed that _this_ was her grand solution.

"I don't think I want to train right now," you mumbled, your arms crossed over your chest. It was like... almost three in the morning. After enduring the long piggy-back ride over here, you were pretty confident that all of the alcohol had worked its way out of your system. But that didn't change the fact that you were tired.

"It's not training!" Undyne insisted, "I'm not teaching you anything. Just... Try picturing the bag as someone who you really wanna deck in the face! Like that guy at the bar! Or... Whoever." She scratched the back of her neck, then suddenly slammed her fist in her hand and shot you a menacing, toothy grin. "...Then sock it to 'em! It always makes _me_ feel better, anyway." She shrugged, then stepped aside and gestured to the punching bag eagerly.

It sounded like a ridiculous idea, but you stepped up to the weighted bag regardless. You were just grateful that Undyne hadn't asked you any questions yet... About your soul, or about why you'd been out drinking and getting into fights. Grateful enough that you were willing to play along, if it made her feel like she was helping. So you planted your feet in front of your target and raised your fists.

Before striking, you hesitated. You closed your eyes and tried to picture someone you wanted to punch. The image of the wolf guy floated around in your mind, but you quickly dismissed the thought. You didn't feel any desire to hit him again. You'd already done it once for real... And you weren't mad at him, anyway. There was no need to take your frustration out on him.

You didn't know why Sans was the next person to pop in your head, but you cast that idea from your mind immediately. You were revolted at yourself for even considering it for a moment. The last thing you wanted was to fantasize about punching your soulmate... What was wrong with you?

All of the sudden, your eyes shot open, and you saw a reflection of yourself in place of the punching bag. Your lip curled into a disgusted snarl. With bitter venom oozing from every movement, you reeled back and decked yourself in your imaginary face. 

And again with the other hand. 

One more time, for good measure. 

Undyne was right; it was pretty satisfying. At least, it was at first. After three punches, you instantly lost steam. You went in for a fourth, but couldn't bring yourself to strike again. You felt... Kinda bad. Which was weird, because it was just you. But something in your chest ached with sadness. You couldn't really hate yourself that much.

But there was _someone_ who you hated. 

Initially, it felt like a fantasy that was far too ludicrous to indulge. Daring to even _imagine_ a scenario in which you would both get the opportunity _and_ have the nerve to punch him in the face was comical. A stupid, stupid joke. You could almost hear him laughing at you from the void. You were too small... Too weak and afraid to ever do something like that.

For a moment, though... You ignored that. You laughed at _yourself_ before he could get the opportunity, then struck the punching bag hard. You let yourself imagine what it might feel like. To not be afraid and just _do_ it. Your knuckles cracking against bone. It would hurt, surely. Punching a skull was very different from punching a sand-filled bag. But that was good. It _should_ hurt. You kinda liked that.

With renewed gusto, you threw yourself at the punching bag. You hit it over and over, even tossing in a few kicks here and there despite the fact that they made your hips twinge in pain. You couldn't keep up the punching for as long as you wanted, though. Without any gloves for protection, your hands eventually became sore and bruised. Your smile slowly morphed into a frustrated scowl. Your body was done, but restless energy still tingled in your mind. The tingle was familiar, actually. It burned through your veins like wildfire, making your heart race and your hair stand on end. 

In the end, all you needed to do to release it was picture Gaster's chilling smile.

With a shout, you lunged forward. At the same time, a _crack!_ of energy raced down your arm. The electricity almost seemed to harden until you could feel it as a physical object in your clenched hand. Acting on instinct, you lashed out with it. There was a blur of motion, a metalic _shhhhhhink!_ , and then a thump.

The feeling of a huge pile of sand suddenly spilling over your feet left you confused. You scrambled back to get away from it. Your chain, still clutched in your hand, dragged on the ground as you moved. You looked from it, to the sand still pouring on the ground, to the severed punching bag dangling pathetically in the air, and thought you understood what must've happened. From the sidelines, Undyne whooped and hollered,

"THAT WAS SO FREAKIN' COOL!!!" 

You laughed incredulously, then held up your chain in triumph. It had yet to disappear like it usually did right after you were able to summon it. Curiously, you ran it through your hands. It was heavy, but not so much so that you struggled to hold it. Its smooth links seemed to glisten with a slight blue tint, though you weren't sure if the quality was intrinsic or if it was just reflecting light from the colored gems on the cave's ceiling. One thing was for sure; it definitely should not have been able to cut through a tough, sand-filled, leather punching bag. But magic was just weird like that, you supposed.

A surprised grunt escaped your lips as Undyne came up behind you and thumped you on the back. 

"Oh my god, you totally ruined my punching bag!?!" What remained of the bag now swung back and forth limply on the chains which held it to the metal frame. The rest was in a pile on the floor, promising to be a huge pain in the ass to clean up. You laughed, then rubbed your arm self-consciously.

"Sorry about that. Got a little carried away." 

"WHO CARES?!? That was the most badass thing I've seen all week!" Without warning, she pulled you into a headlock and gave you a noogie. You yelped and struggled to break free, but you were smiling all the while. For once, you felt like you'd done something actually worth being impressed about.

At some point during your struggle, the chain in your hand vanished. You didn't notice right away because it didn't clatter to the floor when you dropped it, but simply disappeared into thin air. You didn't mind, though. Somehow, you knew it wouldn't be as hard to get it to come back from now on. 

Once she was done assaulting you, Undyne let you go and put her hands on her hips.

"Feeling better now, punk?" In vain, you worked to flatten your hair while answering honestly,

"Actually, yeah." Undyne gave you a big smile.

"Good! Then let's go home and get some sleep." You smiled back at her and nodded emphatically.

By the time the two of you got back home, you were utterly exhausted. Immediately upon returning, you kicked off your shoes, collapsed on your borrowed bed, and slept...

...And dreamt...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one goes out to all you furries out there.
> 
> There is, in fact, a reason that Undyne was in New Home to hear Reed screaming and break up their fight, but it never really seemed important and it would've felt weird to stop the flow of the chapter to explain it. So no explanation for you!
> 
> Believe it or not, I actually had a pet millipede for about a year when I was a kid. I think I repressed that memory, because I totally forgot about that until I started describing Millie the armorer. They're actually kind of okay pets, if you can get past the number of legs. Having one crawl on your hand is an... interesting experience.
> 
> As I briefly mentioned, Reed's armor was originally intended as a gift for someone else. Who do you think Millie was gonna give it to?


	46. Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

_"Hello? Are you there?"_

A familiar, but somehow still unidentifiable voice called out to you in your dreams. Usually, it heralded the beginning of the nightmares. But something was different tonight. No hands reached out to smother or choke you. Somehow, you'd been left unattended. You opened your mouth and met no resistance when you called back,

"Yes... I'm here."

You walked forward... Though toward what, you didn't know. Once you picked a direction, a light seemed to materialize in front of you. You could see the dark silhouette of a person against it. 

"Really? Hello?!?"

You picked up the pace, eager to finally find out who this mysterious voice was. As you approached, you were able to make out more and more details. The figure was definitely human in shape, but much shorter than you. Like a child.

"FRISK?!?" you yelled, then started running. Your eyes adjusted to the light enough to make out their features. It _was_ them! Except...

You skidded to a stop several yards away from the kid. Frisk didn't talk. And there was something about their eyes...

"Chara," you said, resigned but disappointed. 

"Correct," they confirmed. They clasped their hands behind their back and closed some of the distance between the two of you. "I thought I would never get through to you, partner. But Frisk insisted that I continue trying." You blinked, taking a moment to process this.

"So... All this time... That voice has been you? Like, the _real_ you, not just some dream?"

Although these dreams of Chara had been happening for a long time... Since before you fell into the Underground... You had never actually confirmed that it was really Chara you'd been talking to. What with your recent tendency to see and hear things that weren't actually there, you felt it was prudent to make sure this time. Chara, however, laughed at you, the sound sending chills up your spine as it came out of Frisk's mouth.

"Oh, we are _well_ past that. Yes, of course this is the real me. Try not to waste our precious time here with idiotic questions, won't you?" Unaffected by Chara's mocking, you continued by asking,

"But how have you been doing it?" Chara sighed, but still obliged you by answering,

"When you so kindly gave up your soul to me, you established a connection between the two of us that I can open at will. Though there do appear to be certain limitations." They folded their arms across their chest and clicked their tongue against the roof of their mouth scornfully. "Years ago, back when we first made that little transaction of ours, I attempted more... shall we say... _drastic_ methods of infiltrating your mind. None of them worked, as you know. I can only contact you through your dreams, and even that seems to have faded with time. Getting here to talk to you has been very difficult." They winkled their nose in distaste. You, meanwhile, rubbed your chest self-consciously. You thought you might've known why it was hard for Chara to reach you. Someone else had a stronger hold over your soul at the moment. Someone more... possessive.

Suddenly, you remembered something. Your eyes lit up in recognition.

"Wait, so... You've been trying to contact me since... Since I..." you trailed off, struggling to think of a way to say _"Since I was in the void"_ without revealing that much information. If that voice calling out to you in your dreams had been Chara all along, then it must've been them trying to get through to you when you were trapped in your cell, in the throes of feverish nightmares. Chara misunderstood and cut you off,

"Since Frisk and I were removed from you, yes. They wanted me to tell you that-"

"Wait, wait, no..." You shook your head. "I... want to know what they have to say, but I gotta know... Were you trying to contact me when I was missing, too?" Chara looked vaguely uncomfortable. They kicked the ground with the toe of their shoe and looked up at the nonexistent ceiling.

"...Yes. Frisk does not know about that. I was unsuccessful, clearly, so they do not need to find out."

"Why?" you blurted out before thinking about it. There was really only one reason for them to try to contact you at that time...

"To _find_ you, of course. You imbecile." They scoffed at you but, behind their barbs, you decoded what they were really saying. They'd tried to _save_ you. "Like I said... Wherever you were, it was beyond my reach. So it doesn't matter, anyway."

That seemed so uncharacteristic of Chara that you wondered, again, if this was really real or if you were making things up in your head. _Chara_ , the demon, had made a genuine attempt to save your life without having been forced to do so by Frisk. Seemed far-fetched, but you couldn't think of any other explanation for the voice you'd heard in the void. 

You were glad they'd failed. They wouldn't have been able to do anything, even if they had found out where you were. It could've only led to Frisk getting in trouble, which was the last thing you'd wanted.

"If you are done asking vapid questions, may I continue passing along what Frisk wanted me to say?" You furrowed your brows and frowned.

"Can't I just talk to Frisk? They've been in my dreams before, too." Chara rolled their eyes and sighed again, getting more and more impatient with you.

"Are you kidding? Forget Frisk, I could barely get _myself_ into your damaged mind. So, no, you cannot talk to them." You crossed your arms, mimicking Chara's position.

"Okay, fine... What do they want to say? Are they... doing okay? Are they in trouble?" you asked with increasing concern, your conscious suddenly weighed down with guilt. If they were hurting in any way, that was on you. You were supposed to protect them...

"They are fine. They are in a foster home. There are far too many bratty children living here, but it is serviceable. Frisk has not been harmed in any way. The foster family is treating them better than their birth parents ever did, so this arrangement is at least a step up from that." Your shoulders slumped in relief as you listened to Chara's clinical assessment of the situation. The child fixed you with a searching look, then uncrossed their arms and continued, 

"They wanted me to tell you that they don't blame you for what happened. They know you tried your best. And they wanted to warn you... They believe it may have been Sans who tipped Reives off and ultimately got them taken away. They went against your wishes and told Sans about the phone incident the night that it happened. Two days later, the police showed up. They do not think it was a coincidence, and neither do I."

Chara put their hands on their hips and raised one brow expectantly. They thought you were going to protest, but you didn't. You let them finish before breaking the news,

"It was him. I already know." Chara's lips pressed into a thin line. The barely suppressed anger was obvious in their expression.

"I don't suppose you are going to do anything about that, are you?"

"There's nothing to do." Your fingers clenched around your arms. "It's complicated. I'm not getting into it with you." They laughed humorlessly. The cynical sound felt so strange coming out of Frisk's body.

"Right. Like how you refuse to tell us where you were when you went missing. Does it have something to do with the resets? Is that why you will not speak of it in front of me?"

You turned away, afraid your eyes might give something away. They were off the mark, and you hoped it would stay that way. They continued to guess while you tried your best to ignore them.

"You say you were kidnapped by humans, but I am certain it is not that simple. Perhaps you were not even kidnapped. Was there some sort of problem with your soul? Did you finally snap under the strain of separating your portion from Sans'?" Chara stepped to the side to try and get in front of you again, but you simply turned the other way. "...Or perhaps you were taken, but not by humans. But why lie about the species of your kidnappers?"

"Stop trying to guess. You'll never get it right," you finally cut them off, disturbed by how their guesses were meandering closer and closer to the truth. "It doesn't concern you, anyway."

"That's what you said before Frisk was taken away," they pointed out. You shook your head, but otherwise didn't comment. They were right... Technically, this did concern them, albeit tangentially. Sans and Alphys would've continued secretly working on modifying the DTEM to be able to separate Frisk and Chara's souls regardless, but the fact that the experimental procedure would bring them closer to being able to cure your soul of its disease meant that the separation, and subsequent death of Chara, would probably happen sooner rather than later. You supposed you didn't know; you had no idea how far along the two of them were on that project. You were completely out of the loop now that you and Sans... And Alphys hadn't been keeping you updated, either. You knew it was what she was working on all of the times she stayed late at the lab, but neither of you talked about it.

When your silence stretched on for too long, Chara rolled their eyes.

"Whatever. Keep your secrets if that makes you feel better about yourself. I believe it is about time we said goodbye, anyway."

You frowned. Sure enough, once you were paying attention, you realized the light behind Chara was getting brighter and brighter. It began to drown them out, reducing them to a silhouette once again. 

"Will I get to talk to you again?!" You stepped closer to Chara, but the floor between you seemed to stretch. You couldn't see their expression as they said,

"It was difficult enough getting here to speak to you once, so probably not. Frisk seems confident they will get themself out of this somehow, though. Perhaps the next time you see us, it will be in person." That sounded more ominous than reassuring. Hastily, you called after Chara,

"Wait! Tell them to stay safe! Tell them not to try running away... It'll only get them in trouble. And tell them we all love them!"

You weren't sure if Chara heard any of that. If they did, they gave no indication. You completely lost sight of their small figure as it was enveloped by the light.

You woke up.

***

You went through the same motions as usual that morning; have breakfast, train with Undyne, shadow her on her patrols. But, all the while, your mind was elsewhere. You already thought about Frisk often, but your recent dreamwalking visitor brought them even further to the forefront of your mind.

You were relieved they were doing alright. You wished you would've been able to talk to them directly, but you supposed Chara's word would have to do. Chara had a rather cynical view of human parental figures, so if they thought the foster parents were alright, then they were probably angels. Still, you should've asked for the foster's names. Maybe you could've had Charlie do a background check, or send them a message somehow... Though you didn't know what you would say even if you did have that luxury.

The fact that Frisk had some sort of plan to get out of foster care, combined with the flippant way Chara had mentioned it, was concerning. You could only hope they wouldn't do anything drastic. Historically, they did have a tendency to run away from home. Even if they somehow made it up to the mountain unharmed, there was no way you wouldn't get caught trying to hide them here. If Frisk went missing, Mount Ebott would be the first place the authorities would search. So Frisk was better off staying put, as frustrating as that was.

It broke your heart that you couldn't tell anyone about Frisk managing to contact you. Maybe you could've told Alphys since she already knew about Chara, but you would've still had to explain the dreams to her. Besides, you couldn't tell the people who mattered the most; Toriel and Asgore. They would've loved to know that Frisk was doing okay, but there was just no way you could spin it that didn't involve breaking the news about their first dead child still living on in Frisk's soul. It would do more harm than good, you were sure.

More than any of that, you thought a lot about Chara. Their reluctant admission that they had tried to save you when you were in the void really threw you for a loop. It was just so odd. Maybe they'd had some kind of ulterior motive, though you couldn't imagine what. It didn't track with what you knew about the supposedly merciless, irredeemable child.

Knowing that they had at least some sort of positive feeling toward you made it very uncomfortable to think about what you, Sans, and Alphys were planning on doing to them. In fact, the more you thought about it, the more abhorrent it seemed. Separating the bits and pieces of Frisk's soul was... Well. You now knew what it felt like to have someone forcibly remove a part of your soul against your will. You didn't wish that on anyone, least of all Frisk. And, with the shred of hope you now had that maybe Chara wasn't as unsavable as you and Sans had thought...

However, if you put a stop to that experiment, it meant you might never get the diseased, black rot out of your own soul. Sans was perfectly willing to test whether or not a person could live with only a sliver of a monster's soul on Flowey, but you highly doubted he would let you take that chance on yourself without any evidence that you wouldn't just die immediately. Could you live with that? Could you cope with having this infection in your soul for the rest of your life?

That night, you searched for the answer. After spending the afternoon playing games with Papyrus and eating dinner at Asgore's house in the evening, you retired to bed early. Once you were alone in your room, you closed the blinds and sat down on the floor. You took a few deep, grounding breaths before pulling your soul out of your chest and reaching out to it.

The resulting hypersensitivity was now a familiar feeling; you didn't let yourself get overwhelmed by it. You didn't try to ignore it, but let yourself feel what you were going to feel. The physical sensations of blood rushing through your veins, the air filling your lungs, the inflammation in your ankle from when you strained it slightly during training that morning. And the emotional sensations... The relief of knowing that Frisk was okay, as well as the anxiety from all of the uncertainty that still remained.

Slowly, you let yourself start thinking about it. About what it might be like to stay like this forever. You cupped your soul in both hands, almost caressing it as you stared at it with the kind of scrutiny that you wouldn't have been able to stomach a month ago. You... didn't like it. The blackness swirling around at your soul's core. It was still vile to look at.

You wanted a cure. You wanted _your_ soul back. The one you had lost over three years ago, now. The pure, undiluted purple light. You'd managed to get it back briefly, but never since. You could never be whole like that again. The next best thing would be getting rid of whatever disgusting substitution Gaster had put in its place. But was it worth it, knowing what Frisk would have to endure to make it happen?

No... You didn't think so. If you could just hold on... Keep getting by day after day... You could spare them that. But could you ever learn to accept yourself like this? Could _Sans_ ever learn to accept you like this... And could you live with that if he couldn't?

Before you could figure out the answer, you were forced to stop. No matter how calm you started out, touching your soul always made your emotions build and build on each other until they became too overwhelming to bear. You'd left yourself a sobbing wreck one too many times; you knew it was best to stop before it came to that. So, when you cut contact with your soul, you were no closer to an answer than when you had started.

You slumped against the wall, letting your soul sink slowly back into your chest of its own accord. Clearly, this was a question that would take more than a day to answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated you on what's been happening currently in TUYS (now CYB, I suppose) in a while, but that's because not much happens for a couple months after Sans absorbs Reed's soul. I don't have a set date for when the barrier breaks, but probably not until mid to late August. Orion doesn't introduce themself to all of their friends until September 17th, and by that time I'm pretty sure I'll be done writing TAR. So there probably won't be anymore timeline updates!


	47. What Was Lost

If one good thing came out of that hazy, drunken night, it was that mastering the use of your chains started to come very easily to you. It seemed all you'd needed was something to push you past that invisible wall, because your training in that regard was going uncommonly well. Only three days after that event, you had already perfected the motion of swinging one of the chains around in a wide, perpetual circle. You had moved on from there to practicing your strike. To test your aim, Undyne set up big, heavy stumps of wood all around the sparring arena. Sitting on top of each of them was a single watermelon. Unsuspecting victims of your magical wrath.

You eyed one of the melons, imagining it was a skull before lashing out with your chain. With a satisfying _shhh-THUNK!_ , the poor, innocent fruit was severed clean in half.

"Nice one!" Undyne called out from where she stood safely at the gate, which you still insisted on leaving open. You flashed her a grin before readjusting your grip on the chain and swinging it backward, starting it going in a clockwise motion again. With your cane in your right hand, you could go on like this for hours... It was pretty fun.

Suddenly, you whirled around and swung horizontally. A normal chain that weighed as much as yours wouldn't have been able to change direction on a dime like that, but your will alone was enough to make it bend the laws of physics just enough. You shaved a quarter off of the top of the fruit behind you, which you figured was pretty good considering you hadn't been looking where you were aiming.

"Now you're just showing off!" Undyne accused, which made you chuckle. Undyne was the one who got the last laugh, though, since you hadn't really thought about what you were going to do after you cut the melon. The momentum of your chain carried it around and behind you. If you hadn't been holding your cane, maybe you could've passed it to your right hand and kept it swinging smoothly. As it was, though, the chain whipped around and hit you in the back of the knees. Undyne claimed it was possible to get your weapon to pass right through your own body when you accidentally hit yourself with it, but you weren't good enough for that yet. Instead, rather than hurting its owner, the chain simply evaporated into thin air right before making contact with your skin.

"Ha! That's what you get!" Undyne laughed. You rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, whatever." You reached out and grabbed half of the first watermelon you'd sliced, then held it out toward Undyne. "Want a melon?" She held out her hands eagerly.

"Hit me up!" You underhand tossed the melon toward her. Thankfully, the throw was good; Undyne caught it and scooped out a huge chunk of fruit with her bare hand. As she stuffed her face with watermelon, you sat down on the trunk and picked out little pieces of the other half of the fruit. 

"'Ey, speakin' uh eatin'..." Undyne's words were muffled until she swallowed, at which point she asked, "Do you want to go over to Toriel's house for dinner? She's asking everyone to come..."

Something about Undyne's intense expression told you there was more going on here than met the eye. You hadn't even spoken to Toriel since moving in with Undyne and Alphys; she had always been closer to Sans than to you. And the way Undyne said "everyone" gave you pause...

"Everyone, huh?" you asked, trying to sound casual even though your palms were already damp with nervous sweat. 

"Yuuuuup."

Your heart thudded wildly in your chest. You picked at a bit of watermelon to avoid having to answer. If Sans was gonna be there... Oh god, what would you say? You had no idea what he was thinking anymore. He'd gone so far off script that you weren't sure if you'd ever really known him, to begin with. Was he mad at you? You didn't know why he would be; you'd left him alone after that first tearful phone call, just like he told you to. You'd been doing everything he wanted you to since he left...

Maybe that was why this dinner was happening, in the first place. After all, there was no special occasion you could think of that would warrant Toriel calling everyone together for a meal. Unless this was carefully designed to be some kind of first step to getting you and Sans on speaking terms again.

If so, was Sans in on it? Or was he being manipulated into this, like you? Did he even know you were invited?

"Yeah, I'll go," you said, your voice far too high-pitched. You flicked a seed off of your thumb and watched it fall to the ground. "Sounds like it'll be... fun." Undyne snorted.

"It'll be something, that's for sure."

***

The rest of the day flew by after that. You finished up training with Undyne and biked back to the house alone. You made yourself a sandwich for lunch, then went biking again, this time bringing your ipod with you. This was a dangerous game, since there were too many songs on there that reminded you of Sans. This time, however, you didn't skip them all, but forced yourself to listen to them. You thought maybe that would boost your confidence, but it only made your stomach churn with additional anxiety. 

After that, you returned home and just flitted around nervously. You took a shower and changed clothes, agonizing for far too long over whether to wear Sans' sweater or not. You wore it nearly every day; surely he'd seen you at a distance with it on before. But would it be too weird to wear right in front of him? Or would it be perceived as an olive branch? 

In the end, you decided to just do what you would've done if you hadn't known Sans would be there, which was wear it. Once that was settled, though, you started fiddling with your hair. You hadn't cut it in a long time. It was getting quite long. Sans liked it better short...

You had to stop thinking like that. You'd thought you were getting better for a little while there. You'd started to consider that Sans might not be in your life anymore, or at least not in the same capacity. Not that you were _at all_ okay with that, but you could think about it as a possibility without breaking down into hysterics. Now, though, at the slightest sign Sans might be okay with being in the same room as you, you were right back in that rut. What was wrong with you?

You had to draw the line somewhere, so you forced yourself not to take a razor to your hair. It was a closer call than you would've liked to admit, though.

When the time came to leave, you were just coming out of a spontaneous panic episode. You would've been late if Undyne hadn't banged on your door, barking at you to get a move on. You gathered yourself, slowing your breathing to an acceptable level before getting up off of the floor, grabbing your cane, and heading out of your room.

You walked over to Toriel's with Undyne and Alphys, trying to be discrete as you scanned the house across the street for signs of Sans. You didn't see anything though; all of the lights in the house you used to share were off. He was probably already at Tori's place.

You barely heard the queen's warm greeting when she answered the door to Undyne's loud, brazen knocks. You were too busy trying to look past her into the house. For some reason you couldn't explain, you wanted to see Sans before he saw you. You just felt like you would be able to handle it better that way.

As it turned out, the two of you saw each other at the same time. As soon as Toriel stepped aside and opened the door wide to let you into her home, she cleared the last obstacle between you and the kitchen. There he was, sitting in the seat with the best view of the door. Your eyes met immediately; he must've been staring at Toriel's back, waiting for her to move. 

The moment was so brief that you couldn't read any meaning in it. It was just _Sans_ , and he was _looking_ at you, and that was enough to make your heart soar. He broke eye contact quickly though, dipping his head down to stare at his plate. However, you saw his mouth twitch up in a little smile that he couldn't hold back. You didn't think it was the beans that were making him grin like that.

You couldn't contain a smile of your own, either. You understood how messed up this was, but you were just _so_ glad he was there. Right in front of you. It was more than you'd been permitted to have for nearly a month.

Without thought, you followed Toriel, Undyne, and Alphys inside. Suddenly, you were faced with what felt like a huge problem. There were only two options; you could either sit diagonal to Sans, or right next to him. That would've been a non-issue... if you didn't have such a fear of sitting with your back to the door. You didn't like not being able to see the entrances to rooms. It made your skin crawl. But you _couldn't_ sit next to Sans. That would've been way too weird.

You stumbled a little, then quickly pulled out the chair diagonal from Sans and sat down clumsily. Fear buzzed in the back of your mind, but you tried to ignore it. Undyne sat next to you and Alphys next to her, while Toriel took the seat beside Sans.

Even as distracted as you were by the less than ideal seating situation, you noticed that the table was extremely crowded. Undyne hadn't been lying when she said that _everyone_ was invited. Even Asgore sat at one of the heads of the table, though you had kind of assumed he and Toriel had had another falling out after Frisk's removal. You never saw the two of them together lately... Though maybe that had more to do with you and Sans than with the two of them. Asgore was your go-to person, and Toriel was Sans'. You didn't encroach on each other's people.

You tried really damn hard to pay attention to what was going on around you, but it was just impossible. You felt like you and Sans were on a whole different plane of existence than everyone else. You stared at each other when the other wasn't looking, knowing instinctively when it was okay to look and when you had to hastily lower your gaze. Like some kind of secret dance, you followed each other's movements. He took a bite of food, you took a bite of food. You drank a sip of water, he drank a sip of water. Neither of you spoke - to each other or to anyone else - for several minutes past the point where it started to get weird. Until Sans broke the pocket of silence between the two of you.

"Pass the salt, please."

The quiet request was directed to the entire party, so you weren't aware he was talking to you until you noticed the salt shaker right in front of your plate. Your eyes darted around to look at Undyne and Asgore, who were on your left and right. Neither of them seemed to have heard Sans; Undyne was talking animatedly to Papyrus, while Asgore listened in with a smile. 

Slowly, you grabbed the salt shaker by the neck and reached across the table. You purposely left plenty of room so his fingers wouldn't have to touch yours if he didn't want them to. Your eyes met, and Sans looked... hopeful. Like he was pleasantly surprised. He took the salt shaker from you, the top of his index finger just brushing the bottom of your pinkie.

"Thanks."

You nodded and dropped your gaze, unable to utter even a simple "you're welcome." God, you were _pathetic_. You hated how much you were eating this up. At the same time, though, you were just so happy. He'd _spoken_ to you. Your soul fluttered with joy. You felt awful, while simultaneously feeling the best you'd ever felt in three weeks.

That tiny exchange seemed to crack open the metaphorical door to the outside world... Enough that you could hear and understand what people around you were saying. Just in time, too, because Undyne nudged you and said eagerly,

"Right, punk???"

"Yup," you answered automatically, even though you had no earthly idea what she was talking about. Toriel's lips twitched as she smiled, appearing to be on the brink of a giggling fit. Of everyone at the table, she was the only one who you thought might know that you and Sans hadn't been paying attention to anything apart from each other.

"See??? Even _they_ think so, and they're the most humble nerd I know!!!" Undyne roared, which concerned you. What did you just agree to?

"I am glad to hear your training is going well," Asgore rumbled with a soft, almost proud smile on his face. Oh.

"Well, I mean... I'm not, like, _that_ great," you quickly backtracked, shooting a nervous glance at Sans. However, he was already looking at you, so you had to turn away again before you had a chance to analyze his expression.

"UGH! STOP THAT!!!" Undyne smacked you upside the head, to which you retaliated with a shove to her shoulder. 

"No fighting at the table," Toriel ordered with the authority of someone who had to remind guests of that rule more often than she should've. Usually it was Papyrus, Undyne, and/or Frisk causing trouble, though... Not you.

"Sorry," you and Undyne apologized in sync. You went back to eating your beans while Undyne continued talking,

"Anyway, I bet you'll be Royal Guard ready in another month or so." She nudged you with her elbow. You rolled your eyes. "Hey, I'm being serious!"

"Really?" The sound of Sans' voice joining the conversation sent a bolt of electricity down your spine. He sounded surprised, but interested. Though you didn't dare look up at him to confirm that. 

"Really really!!!" Papyrus jumped in with his own commentary. It seemed like everyone was oddly eager to compliment you. All of the attention made your cheeks hot with embarrassment. "I've seen them train! One day, they might even be as good as me!!!" Papyrus beamed at you. You slouched in your seat, making yourself as small as possible. Oblivious of your discomfort, your sort-of brother snapped his fingers and declared, "OH! I HAVE AN EXCELLENT IDEA! Sans, you should come watch them spar with me one day!!!"

" _What?_ " you asked, mortified. You were too shocked by this bold proclamation to keep up the dance; you stared openly at Sans and Papyrus, one of whom looked proud of his brilliant idea while the other was wearing a blank, unreadable expression.

"Yeah! Sounds fun!" Undyne chipped in unhelpfully. You shot her a desperate, pleading look, but were caught off guard again when Sans shrugged and said, casual as you please,

"Sure."

You could not _believe_ that. What was he playing at? This had to have been planned... It _had_ to. Or were you being overly paranoid? 

The topic moved on from there, and you were forced to move with it. Everyone kept trying to engage you in conversation; from asking your opinion on the overcrowding in New Home, to joking that you should drive down to Ebott City to rent some new movies. You weren't sure if it was on purpose or not, but it kept you from dissecting every miniscule microexpression Sans made.

You weren't the only one receiving this treatment. Everyone cared about Sans' opinion a little more than seemed normal, too. When you expressed that you thought more monsters should be allowed to live on the surface, Asgore asked Sans how he was enjoying the new house and whether he thought they should build more like it. When you complained that you didn't want to drive over four hours just to retrieve some movies, Undyne slammed her fist on the table and declared that Sans should disguise himself as a human and teleport to the nearest Blockbuster.

If their goal was to get you and Sans to speak to each other, it didn't work. You kept up the dance you'd established, maintaining a relatively normal banter with your friends while never directly talking to one another. It was maddening, and you wished you could end it, but you couldn't bring yourself to be the first one to break that ground. Sans felt similarly, it seemed. Perhaps he lost his nerve after that first moment with the salt, or maybe he just didn't want to talk to you. You had no idea. 

What ultimately tipped the scales was an offhand comment of Papyrus'. When Toriel brought out her signature butterscotch-cinnamon pie for dessert, Papyrus took a big bite and said,

"Excellent as always, Your Majesty! This pie would have been Frisk-approved!" 

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. Automatically, you turned sharply to look at Sans. He was staring at his plate fixedly. Even Papyrus recognized the awkward situation he'd caused and quickly backtracked.

"Oh no... My apologies! I did not mean to bring up a sore subject..."

"It is alright, dear," Toriel assured him with a sad smile, "We can talk about Frisk."

"Thank god!" Undyne piped up in a crass way that only she could get away with. "I miss that little punk!" Alphys, who had been very quiet during this whole dinner, glanced over at you nervously. Checking to see if you were okay, if you had to guess. You smiled back at her reassuringly, then said,

"Yeah, so do I."

Sans clutched his fork tightly, looking supremely uncomfortable. _Good_ , you thought to yourself, _He should be._

"We can only hope they will return to us soon," Asgore said gravely, "Until then, all we can do is keep them in our thoughts."

"Yeah," Undyne agreed, "I just wish there was something more we could do. Every time I see that Reives bitch, I just wanna punch him right in the face!"

"Language!" Papyrus chastized her, to which she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Whatever! You're lucky you don't have to go to meetings anymore." She nudged you with a teasing grin. "He's insufferable! I'm tempted to whip out my spear so I can get fired, too!" 

You laughed at that, but Asgore didn't find it so amusing. He went on to give Undyne a lecture on having patience and compassion even for your enemies, but you didn't listen. Your mind was still stuck on Frisk...

You still hadn't come to a firm conclusion on what to do about their soul. It had been eating away at you for days. After thinking about it so much, you thought you had come up with a potential solution to the moral quandary you were in. There were too many unknowns, however. You weren't sure if it was possible and, even if it was, the revised plan would require the cooperation of everyone involved...

You were sure Alphys would go along with whatever you suggested. It was due to your insistence that she had started working on this secret project, anyway.

It was Sans you were worried about.

The more you thought about it, the more urgent it seemed. You didn't know how close Sans and Alphys were to finishing the DTEM... If you were going to speak up and throw a wrench in things, it was best to do it sooner rather than later. That was why, when everyone finished their pie and the conversation started to wind down, you gathered up all of your courage to face Sans and ask,

"Sans, can I talk to you privately for a minute?"

A shocked hush fell over the table. Your cheeks burned red, but you stubbornly refused to lower your gaze again. Sans was just as surprised as everyone else; his brows raised, then pinched together with concern. He clicked his jaw in and out as he considered it, then shrugged and said,

"Sure."

You could hear the reluctance in his voice, though he tried to appear unbothered as he pushed his chair back and stood up from the table. You did the same, turning your back on everyone as you led the way to Frisk's old room.

Until you walked in, you'd forgotten that you and Sans had shared this room together briefly. In fact, it was where Sans had first tried to see your soul after Gaster... And you'd rejected him. Bad memories which all came flooding back the moment you walked inside. You couldn't very well turn around and find a different spot, though; once Sans came in after you and shut the door behind him, you were committed. 

"What didja need to tell me?" Sans asked before you even had a chance to turn around and face him. When you did so, you were struck by the fact that you were alone in a room _with Sans_. Blood pounded in your ears. Stupid, stupid... You had to knock that off. It didn't have to be a big deal.

"Um... I..." you stuttered, struggling to find a place to start. "I wanted to ask you about... about how the whole DTEM thing is going." Sans quirked a brow at you. His hands were in his pockets, but you could tell they were clenched into fists. 

"Slow. We've got a pretty good scan of Frisk's soul from when they fought Mettaton, but we haven't been able to suss out which parts are Frisk and which are... not." He tilted his head, his pupils contracting a little. "...Alphys coulda told you that."

"Yeah, I... I know," you said hastily as you scratched the back of your neck. "But I was just thinking... Well, wondering, actually... Maybe this isn't... isn't such a good idea?" Sans' pupils got even smaller, reduced to almost nothing. 

"How so?" His dark tone filled you with dread. He wasn't going to go for this, but you tried anyway.

"It's just, like... Doing this behind Frisk's back is kinda... Not good. It would be better if they were willing to cooperate with us, when the time comes. So maybe we should find a way to split up their soul that they would agree to. Which, um... Would involve saving Chara, I'm pretty sure."

You clenched your teeth, already regretting suggesting any of this. Sans was looking at you like you were crazy. His tone of voice took on the same quality of a nurse patiently explaining to a patient with dementia that the Vietnam war ended 44 years ago.

"We agreed to get rid of Chara, remember? They're a danger to everyone around them. Until they’re gone for good, we can never be sure they won’t find a way to reset everything. You don’t want that, do you?”

“No, no…” You grabbed your own arm self-consciously, your gaze averted. “I get that, but it just… feels wrong.”

Sans took a step toward you and started to reach out, but aborted the motion halfway. Instead, he clenched his outstretched hand into a fist and swung it at his side. 

“I know, but it’s our best shot at making sure this timeline sticks. Besides… This is gonna help you, too. With your… problem.” His voice was gruff and quiet, as though even speaking of it vaguely would bring a curse upon you both. 

“Yeah, I know,” you said, equally quiet. You still couldn’t look at him, but you heard him grind his teeth together. Your heart pounded almost painfully in your chest as you listened to him shuffle forward, then nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt his hand on your shoulder.

“Trust me on this, ‘kay? We gotta stick to the original plan.” Finally, you looked up at him and nodded, wide-eyed. He smiled at you, and all of the well-reasoned arguments you had to back up your opinion flew out the window.

“And, uh…” he hesitated, then forged on, “I’m glad to hear you’re doin’ better. Real glad.” You were too breathless to say anything in reply. Instead of waiting for you to catch up, Sans squeezed your shoulder once before letting go. He turned around and walked out the door.

It took you a moment to follow him. You really just wanted to stand there and commit the feeling of his hand on your shoulder to permanent memory, but you realized it would look strange if Sans were to emerge back in the kitchen without you. So you rushed to catch up to him, then sat back down at the table and tried hard to act like nothing at all had happened.

***

You left Toriel’s house that night more confused than when you had entered. It took a good half hour of sitting alone in your room to calm down and process the whole experience. When you did, you were left feeling wrung out, conflicted, and frustrated.

You desperately missed Sans. That was a given. You kept replaying the good parts of the dinner in your head over and over; when Sans had agreed to watch you spar, and when he’d touched your shoulder and said he was glad you were doing better. He was _glad you were better_... It was the first sign you’d been given that you were getting closer to your goal. The plan to convince him you were stable enough to resume your relationship was coming to fruition. 

The sparring session with Papyrus, whatever that would entail, felt immensely important. You had to impress him… Prove that you were strong and capable. There was so much pressure…

But, on the other hand, the dinner hadn’t been all sunshine and starry-eyes. You were irritated with yourself for how easily you’d folded regarding the Frisk situation. You hadn’t even gotten to tell Sans about your dream. He’d shot you down immediately, and you’d conceded without question. There was a time when you wouldn’t have been so meek, but that time was well behind you.

Now that you were alone and had some space to reflect back on it, you realized something. You hated the way he made you feel. Like you couldn't trust yourself... Like any thought or idea you had needed to be filtered through _his_ moral compass. Especially now, with your soul being the way it was... But even before then. This problem had been brewing since Orion, and only now that you had some distance were you seeing how toxic it was. You should be able to trust your own sense of right and wrong, shouldn't you?

It wasn’t like he was a saint. He’d gotten Frisk taken away from you. From everyone who loved them. And, to this day, you weren’t sure if he even regretted it. 

You shook your head and wiped the unshed tears from your eyes. Everything used to feel so easy and right. Somehow, it had gotten all muddled. You didn’t even know how you felt anymore… About yourself, or about Sans. 

You wanted to talk to someone about it. You felt like you had to, or else you’d never work it out on your own. If there was one thing you’d learned in the past month, it was that you needed to have more faith in your friends. You hadn’t expected Undyne to be as great about all of this as she had been, but you were beginning to realize how lucky you were to have her. Even after seeing your messed up soul, she wasn’t treating you any differently. And that was to say nothing about Alphys, Papyrus, and Asgore. Everyone had been incredibly patient with you, even when you didn't really deserve it.

But you couldn’t go to them with this. You couldn’t talk to anyone about Sans. All of your friends were his, too. You didn’t want to turn them against him. You couldn’t tell them about what he’d done to Frisk, or how he’d hit you that one time, or how he sometimes made you feel like dirt without trying to. It all sounded a lot worse than it really was… More damning than you wanted it to be. You wished you had a friend who was a little more distant from the situation. Someone who wouldn’t jump to conclusions.

It took you until the next morning to realize that you _did_ have a friend like that. You weren’t sure what he would think about all of this, but you were at least certain that Charlie wouldn’t feel the need to tattle on Sans to anyone. He was already keeping secrets about Gaster for you. You could trust him to keep a few more.

That afternoon, you declined Alphys' offer to watch movies with her. She was so rarely away from the lab that you felt bad not hanging out with her when she was available, but you felt that talking to someone about this while it was fresh on your mind was a higher priority. It was going to eat away at you until you did.

The Northwest tower was still under construction, so you headed Northeast instead. You hadn't been there since you and Sans went looking for Hernandez... But it had changed a lot since then. Gone was the clutter on the floor, tidied up and replaced with a temporary, folding table. Four plastic chairs sat around it; just enough for the usual Tuesday meeting crowd. Minus you. And minus Charlie, who had his own, nicer chair sitting in the corner facing camp. That was where you found him, looking out over the mountain with a bored expression.

"Oh, hey," he greeted you with mild surprise upon hearing the screen door swing open. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Nice to see you, too," you said sarcastically. He threw up his hands in exasperation.

"Well it's true! No one comes to visit ol' Charlie... But that's fine. I'll just sit here night n' day and watch this portal to another dimension, or whatever it is. Not like it ever does anything cool," he grumbled while gesturing to your old, condemned house below. Despite the seriousness of the topic, you couldn't contain a laugh. You never thought about how bored Charlie, Daujatas, Green, and Samuelsson must've been. You never thought about the guards much at all, in fact. You were too consumed by your own problems.

"Sorry for not visiting. I really appreciate what you guys are doing," you said with the utmost sincerity. Charlie rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he did it.

"Yeah, yeah. What's up, kid?"

"Not that much younger than you," you pointed out for what felt like the hundredth time. You propped your cane up in the corner by the door, then pulled out one of the plastic chairs and took a seat. "I guess I... Need an opinion on something. And you're the most unbiased person I know." Charlie grunted, turned his chair around to face you, and leaned his elbows on his knees before saying,

"This is about Sans, huh?"

You blinked at him, shocked that he'd guessed it in one go. How did he know...?

"He was in here last night. Said the same thing. Great minds must think alike because, I don't wanna brag, but I give the _best_ relationship advice." He laughed. You weren't sure if he was being serious or not, but you were more concerned that you hadn't been the first one up here.

"Forget it, then," you said bitterly before standing up to leave. Charlie stood up from his own chair hastily, his arms outstretched.

"Woah, woah... Hey! Sorry, I shouldn't laugh. Don't go... Tell me what's going on."

"You already know," you accused. It wasn't because he'd laughed that you wanted to leave. It was because Sans had already gotten to him. Clearly, he and Charlie were closer than you'd thought. Telling the guard about your side of things would be just as bad as telling anyone else...

"Not everything, I'm sure. C'mon... Let me hear it. I dunno why in God's name you both decided I was the guy to come to about this, but I wanna listen if you wanna talk."

You hesitated with your hand on your cane. Eventually, though, you sighed and retracted your hand. You walked back to your chair and sat down. Charlie did the same.

"Okay. Just... Promise you won't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you." Charlie leaned back in his seat and crossed his heart with his index finger.

"Promise."

Without further ado, you began. Starting from the moment you escaped from the void, you told Charlie everything. Well... Almost everything. More than you had planned on telling him. Once you started, it all just came spilling out. About how bad your mental state had been, and still was. About the panic attacks, the new phobias, the hallucinations. About how worried Sans had been, and how, at the cost of Frisk's freedom, he'd manipulated you into moving back in with him.

You even told him about your soul. Only a little, but that was hard enough. You couldn't look at him, instead staring at the wooden floor as you spoke,

"Gaster, he... he did something... t-to my soul. Y-you know about souls, right?" You managed to glance at him briefly. Long enough to see him nod before turning your gaze away again.

"Mhmm. Dunno much, but I know they exist. Sans did that thing to Green-"

"Right," you interrupted, not wanting to hear about yet another morally ambiguous thing Sans had done. "Well, it's... He messed it up. My soul. I can't really explain..." You rubbed your chest absentmindedly. A little whisper tickled your ear softly, but you brushed it away with a spark of magic. You heard Charlie lean forward in his chair.

"Okay. What does that mean?" Your breath hitched. You didn't want to explain this. You put your head in your hands and clenched your fists in your hair.

"I don't... It means... It means I'm not... I'm not myself... I'm not really _human_ anymore." This was a dangerous topic. You had to steer away from it. Desperately, you begged, "Please stop. Don't ask anymore questions. I'm only telling you so that you understand the next part..."

"Yup, no problem. I got the gist." He sounded nervous, which was new. Charlie was so rarely nervous about anything. You took a couple deep breaths, but couldn't stop pulling your own hair. After a moment, Charlie prompted you, "So what happened next? With Sans. Tell me about Sans."

You did. Slowly, you started telling him about what you'd done to Sans in the kitchen, and how he'd been forced to defend himself from you. Reciting the facts helped calm you down, which was unexpected given how upsetting the incident you were talking about had been. Even though it didn't make sense, you were soon able to release your hair and raise your head up again.

In the end, there were only a few relevant facts you kept secret. Everything about Chara was left out of your retelling. There was just too much there; you would've needed way more than one afternoon to explain the nuances of that situation. You did, however, speak more generally about how you felt like you couldn't trust yourself to make big decisions. How you felt like you had to run everything by Sans first, and how he sometimes made you feel like you shouldn't trust your own instincts. 

Charlie had listened to everything with a carefully blank expression up until that point, but something about that made him frown and shake his head. You trailed off, then asked,

"What is it?" He looked away and tapped his foot on the ground before deciding what to say.

"S'just that... No one should make you feel like that. For any reason."

You fidgeted in your chair, then crossed your arms over your chest and muttered, "But my soul..."

"Look," Charlie's suddenly authoritative tone of voice snapped you to attention, "I don't know much about souls, but I'm tellin' you there's no reason to feel like you can't trust yourself. I don't think Sans is tryin' to make you feel that way on purpose... At least, I hope like hell he's not. But, regardless, you gotta trust yourself above all else. You have to make your own decisions. You stop doing that, and you _really_ won't be yourself anymore. You get that, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," you relented. You supposed he was right, but it was still difficult. You had a lot of bad experiences with trusting yourself... But, then again, maybe some of that stuff in your past wasn't completely your fault. And you'd made some good decisions before, too. It was just that you were reminded of the bad ones so much more often.

Charlie sighed, but let it drop. "Anything else you wanted to tell me?"

"...No. That's it, I think." There was certainly more you _could_ say. About your magic powers, maybe. Or about Orion. But none of that was eating at you. It was just Sans...

"Okay. Do you wanna know what I think?"

"Yeah, lay it on me." You sat up straighter, ready to hear Charlie's opinion. Ironically, the reason you'd come here was to be told by someone else what you should do. Maybe not the best idea, given what your friend had already told you. So you supposed you shouldn't have been surprised when he said,

"Well, too bad. I've heard this all twice now... Once from you, and once from Sans. So yeah, I've got an opinion. But it doesn't matter. You have to decide how _you_ feel about all of this and go from there."

You nodded, your lips pursed in resignation. That wasn't what you'd wanted him to tell you, but you figured he was probably right. Coming to Charlie looking for instructions on how to feel was immature. The idea seemed kinda ridiculous, in hindsight.

"I will say, though..." You hadn't expected him to continue, so it piqued your attention when he did. "...That stuff about your soul. Sans left that part out. It makes a couple things make more sense..." He paused to scratch the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Like I said, I don't know the first thing about souls. But I've spent too much time around monsters to give a damn who's 'really human' and who's not. Whatever you are, it doesn't matter. What matters is what you do with it."

A heavy silence fell between you as Charlie gave you time to digest that. You rubbed your chest again, more thoughtful than agitated this time. Ultimately, you had to set that idea aside for now. You'd have to think about it later.

"Thanks, Charlie," you said, choosing not to comment on what he'd said. Charlie accepted that decision with a nod. You stood up, and he followed suit.

"You're welcome. Now get the hell out of my tower." You laughed, more out of relief at the break in tension than anything. 

"Really, I owe you one. If you ever need to vent to someone about something, hit me up."

"Yeah, yeah." He waved you off, as though the idea of him needing emotional support was ludicrous. You let that slide, simply bidding him a good evening before grabbing your cane and starting down the stairs.

As you walked back home, you tried not to think about what had transpired just yet. Instead, you started working on getting to a place of calm in your mind. Perhaps you would benefit from walking around outside more often, because it was easier to clear your head in the forest than it ever was in your room. Something about the smell of the trees, the sunlight filtering through the leaves, and the sound of birds chirping put you at ease more effectively than anything else. By the time you made it back home, you were in a dreamy, zen-like state, not thinking about anything in particular. The perfect condition in which to do your daily soul-touching routine.

Like always, you closed the door to your room, drew the blinds shut, and sat down on the floor. You brought your soul out right away, not feeling the need to take any more deep breaths. You reached out with both hands this time, interlocking your fingers behind your soul and drawing it in close as you held it. Charlie had advised you to figure out how you really felt, and you knew of no better way to do that than via this strange sort of soul meditation you'd invented. You let yourself relish in the physical sensations for a moment before starting to broach the subject of the elephant in the room. 

Sans.

Just thinking his name brought a flurry of conflicting emotions that you had to fight to control. Once again, you approached the question you'd been stuck on a few days ago; could you live with it if you and Sans never reconnected? Initially, your soul rebelled against the mere idea. No... You most definitely couldn't. That would be the worst thing... The absolute worst. You would rather die.

No. You had to stop that. Why were you so beholden to him? It was unhealthy. That should've been obvious from the first day you and Sans split off from Orion. You were almost embarrassed it had taken this long to piece it together. 

Had it, though? You'd suspected that your relationship was... maybe not in the best place before. But, when you'd had those suspicions in the past, you had never done anything about them. Just shrugged it off as a consequence of your mixed-up souls and left it at that.

It all came back to your soul, didn't it?

Hot, fiery anger suddenly lanced through your body without warning. You didn't even know why until a half-second into it, when your brain scrambled to make sense of the intense emotions that had seemed to come out of nowhere. It didn't take long to figure it out, though. It was the same thought you'd had countless times...

You wanted _your soul_ back. 

That was the problem. The root of it all. 

You wanted it back. Not because you needed it to live, necessarily... You would survive without it. You saw that future spread out in front of you like a red carpet rolling open at your feet. You could let Sans experiment on Frisk, then use what he learned to take the blackness out of your soul. If that happened, you would be left with nothing but the white... _Nothing_ but Sans. 

You didn't want to be _him_. You wanted to be _you_. Make your own decisions. Feel your own feelings. Just you... No one else.

You were pissed. First Sans, then Gaster... Why did everyone seem to think they had a right to your soul? It wasn't okay... You didn't deserve that. You didn't deserve to be anyone's _property._

All of the sudden, a scary sense of calm flooded your mind.

You were going to kill him. 

...Gaster, that was. You still didn't know what to feel about Sans, but maybe you could get closer to the answer once you had a part of yourself back. So forget Sans for now. Forget your plan to impress him. You knew how you felt about Gaster, at least. 

You hated him. 

You were going to fucking _kill_ him. 

The anger came back tenfold.

You didn't know how. You didn't know when. But sitting there, feeling the violent acrimony coursing through your veins... You were confident you could do it. You _had_ to do it. Surely no one could stand up to the sheer force of your hatred. It was too much even for you; you had to let go of your soul or risk causing another "earthquake."

Even after you released the black and white essence, that anger stayed nestled near your heart. It was there to stay. With your lips pressed into a thin line, you guided your patchwork soul back into your chest.

You had a lot of work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. That took a turn. 
> 
> I could've really expanded on that last part, but I had to hold myself back. This chapter is basically the crux of what I wanted to say about the concept of "soulmates" when I first started writing TUYS. So I hope I got my point across over the course of... 
> 
> *checks word count*
> 
> 440,000 words. Christ.


	48. Aut Neca Aut Necare

Long after Alphys went home and Flowey fell asleep in his pot, Sans remained in the True Lab. He kept most of the lights off, preferring to work under the glow of a strong desk lamp, though otherwise enveloped by darkness. Silhouettes of various home-brew gadgets and scientific equipment surrounded him on all sides. Every item in the room felt like a monument to his madness. From the disorganized pile of allen wrenches on the desk, to the massive determination extraction machine looming in the shadows behind him.

Aside from the lamp, the only other light in the room came from his soul. The white and purple heart was exposed, hovering over the desk. It was required for this part... Which was why Sans stayed in the lab so late sometimes. Anything that necessitated the use of his own soul was something he had to do alone. He couldn't have anyone else laying eyes on it. Couldn't stand the thought. It made him sick. He never used to feel that way before...

You'd asked how the research was going. The answer was not well. He and Alphys were fortunate to have been able to retrieve a comprehensive scan of Frisk's soul from Mettaton's hard drive, but that was the only piece of luck they'd come across. Every other idea they'd had was foiled at every turn. Separating a human soul from a monster's had been difficult enough... And they'd failed even at that, as was evidenced by the purple wisps swirling around in Sans' soul. Trying to separate _three_ souls, two of which were human and two of which were only incomplete fragments, was nigh impossible.

So Sans wasn't working on that at the moment. He was working on _you_. He was getting ahead of himself, of course. There was no way in hell he was going to use you as a guinea pig for this. He would test it out on the kids first, and only if Asriel survived with a partial soul would he consider doing the same to you. But there were a few things he could do in preparation for that day, including getting a scan of _his_ soul.

Scanning yours would've been better. Being able to identify the black, cancerous mass would've been helpful. But he could never, _ever_ ask you to expose your soul to him and endure a scan. Even though it was about the least invasive procedure one could do on a soul, he knew how you would feel about it. Hell, he had secondhand anxiety about anyone seeing his soul after merely _witnessing_ your memories. To ask you to be involved in this process at all was unthinkable. 

Instead, he would have to settle for the next best thing; a scan of his own soul. The white essence of his soul should've been identical to yours. If he could figure out his unique soul signature - if such a thing even existed, which he was beginning to doubt - then he didn't care what the black mass was. If he could only hold onto the stuff that was his and cast out everything else, then the identity of the garbage shouldn't matter. Theoretically. He wasn't sure he was willing to bet your life on it, but he figured he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

With a grimace, he grabbed the cylindrical device from the corner of the desk and slid it closer to his soul. First, he turned it around and plugged it into the DTEM using a mess of long wires that dangled down to the floor and ran all the way to the machine looming behind him. He only had this old model to work with; Alphys' fancy, wireless version was still in Mettaton. This would work just as well, though. Once it was hooked up, he turned it back around and adjusted it so that it was right in front of his soul. He flicked it on. There was no indication that it was running, aside from the lines of data that began appearing on the computer across the room. 

Now, he just had to wait. It was best to remain as calm as possible while the scan was running, as emotional interference could obscure the finer details. That was part of why they were having such trouble with Frisk's soul; the only scan they had was taken during a high-energy moment. They were trying to work with what they had, but Sans was afraid they might have to get a new scan if they wanted to have any hope of figuring this out. 

He wasn't above kidnapping Frisk and bringing them to the lab, if that was what it took. With a bit of digging, he was sure he could eventually figure out where CPS had placed them. Humans had a habit of leaving paper trails of those sorts of things. But then, he'd have to explain to Frisk why he needed a scan of their soul. If he told the truth, they would certainly not be calm about it, and that would negate the whole purpose of bringing them to the lab for a new scan. So he'd have to come up with a good enough lie first...

This snag could've been avoided if he hadn't told Reives to take the kid away from you. Sans was well aware of the irony. That had been his first fuck-up among many. Charlie had told him as much a couple days ago, when Sans decided he couldn't take the guilt anymore and had to tell someone about what he'd done. 

"You can't try to control the people you love," he'd said. Sans already knew that. It was why he'd had to let you go. Push you away, more like. He didn't know how to be close to you without needing to control you, so the only other option was to keep his distance. He didn't know any other way. 

Damn if it wasn't hard, though. Leaving you with Undyne and Alphys had been the hardest thing he'd ever done, bar none. It had to be done, though. You couldn't keep on obsessing over his soul, and he couldn't bear the thought of hitting you again. It had gotten to the point where he was scared to be alone with you. He was afraid you would snap again... Make another grab for his soul. And maybe he'd hurt you worse next time. Or maybe he wouldn't be able to bring himself to fight you off at all. He didn't know which was worse. Either way, he couldn't go on living in constant fear, and that was all there was to it. 

So he did it. He made a plan with Alphys, Undyne, and Papyrus... All via text, since that was the only way he had of contacting anyone without you knowing. After that bedroom door was slammed shut behind you, Undyne had to all but kick him out of her house. Once she did, Sans had turned to Papyrus and said in no uncertain terms,

"Don't let me go back there."

It was a lot to put on Papyrus. Sans had never given his little brother so much responsibility before. Not that he didn't think he could handle it, but he just didn't want to expose Pap to the shittier sides of life. This time, though, he didn't have a choice. You were like a drug to him, and he'd been going through withdrawls. He needed someone to hold him back when all he wanted to do was run to you. 

Papyrus had been so good about all of this... Better than Sans could've ever expected. He'd literally pinned Sans to the ground on a couple occasions, true to his word that he wouldn't let him go back to you. In less extreme situations, Pap found ways to distract him with other things. He'd taken Sans to Snowdin countless times, whether to eat out at Grillby's, visit Green at his new digs, or screw around in the forest. It felt just like old times. _Really_ old times... Times that Papyrus didn't even remember.

Nowadays, Sans was a little bit better. Good enough to have been able to endure that dinner with you. He'd heard nothing about you for weeks, so he was surprised to find out that you were training to be in the Royal Guard. He knew Undyne had been planning on teaching you to control your magic, both to keep your mind occupied and to prevent another outburst like the one that had damaged the Northwest tower. But he hadn't expected it to go so far. Seeing you spar with Papyrus was going to be... interesting. Sans was both dreading it and looking forward to it.

Despite how well you were apparently doing, Sans was still concerned by what you'd told him privately after dinner. He had no clue what could've possessed you to start doubting the plan to get rid of Chara. You'd been on board with it for months, and you were just now voicing concerns? He could understand feeling bad for Frisk. He felt bad, too. But surely the positives outweighed the negatives. Not only was this going to end the threat of Chara once and for all, but it would be a crucial step toward fixing your soul. The fact that you were hesitant to do those things was worrisome. 

A loud _beep!_ startled Sans out of his thoughts. He'd completely forgotten about the scan. Hastily, he flicked the device off and turned to the computer to look at the data. Unfortunately, it was all over the place. He must've gotten too emotional while lost in his thoughts. He'd have to redo it...

With a sigh, he looked down at his soul and shook his head. He walked back to the table and, reluctantly, started the whole process all over again.

***

Though a part of him hoped everyone would forget about the sparring thing, Sans had no such luck. His brother approached him about it the very next day and, with Papyrus as the go-between, Sans agreed with you on a date and time. The two of you were both surprisingly busy, so the only time you could meet up was in the evening. Even then, Sans had to rearrange his schedule and deliver Samuelsson his supplies much earlier than usual. Generally, he tried to drop things off late at night, when the guard was sleeping. Today, though, he was unlucky enough to find Samuelsson very much awake. 

When Sans arrived, the human was sitting on his porch, which was a relatively new addition to his shack. The guards each had their own ways of keeping their minds occupied while stuck in their assigned locations. Samuelsson dealt with the boredom by building things. The once forlorn shack was slowly being transformed into a functional house, with all of the additions that had been made. The guy definitely had the worst assignment of everyone, so Reives was more than happy to supply him with whatever materials he wanted. Unfortunately, that meant that Sans had more shit to haul back and forth. 

"Hey," Sans greeted the human, who only nodded begrudgingly. He didn't look up from his work, which, today, appeared to be cleaning his gun with an oily rag. Sans eyed the weapon warily, but didn't comment on it. It would've been so easy for Samuelsson to kill him with that thing. Of all monsters, Sans certainly wasn't one who could survive a gunshot, and dodging a bullet would've been impossible even with shortcuts. Despite his dislike of monsters, though, Sans highly doubted Samuelsson would shoot him. He wasn't exactly friendly toward Sans, but he had never been openly hostile, either.

Case in point... When Sans lowered the two-by-fours and sacks of food to the ground, the guard thanked him politely, but in a way that offered no room to strike up a conversation. That was fine by Sans; he responded with a simple "no problem" and left back through the shortcut he'd come in from. He had places to be, after all.

There weren't any easy shortcuts that led from the entrance to the Underground to Undyne's old house-turned-gym, so Sans had to do some creative teleporting to get where he needed to be. By the time he arrived, he was fashionably late, despite having not been held up at the barn at all. He was simply not very good at time management.

When he saw you for the second time that week, his magic fluttered nervously in his bones. You were sitting at a bench on the other side of the arena, so he only saw you through two layers of chain-link fence. It was enough to see you smile at something Undyne had said, though. She and Papyrus were both there, standing near you and chatting. Sans only had eyes for you, though. You were wearing his sweater again, which made his soul practically hum with satisfaction. Until he saw you with it on at dinner, he'd completely forgotten you'd been wearing it on the day he left. Despite the fact that he'd forced himself not to leave anything of his with you when he packed up your things, he was unreasonably happy to see you with that old hoodie.

It took you a minute to realize he was there. When you did, your reaction was not what he'd been expecting. You'd smiled at him at dinner... A simple act which would have knocked Sans off of his feet if he'd been standing. Now, though, your expression fell. Not into a frown, necessarily. You just looked... carefully blank. Leaning on your cane for support, you stood up and nudged Papyrus before gesturing to the arena. By the time Sans walked around the fence and got to the bench, you and Papyrus were already inside.

"Hey, shorty!" Undyne called out to him, her teeth bared in a grin. Reluctantly, Sans came to stand next to her. He'd been hoping to... He didn't know. Talk to you or something, beforehand. 

"Hey," he greeted Undyne in return, though his eyes were glued on you and Papyrus. The two of you were on opposite corners of the arena, with Papyrus being close to Sans and you being as far away as you could get. Papyrus was blocking his view of you, so Sans tried to walk around Undyne to get a better angle. Undyne, however, grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

"Woah, don't go that way... You'll be in front of the open gate! Don't wanna get hit by a stray attack!" Sans looked at the fence and, sure enough, the gate to the arena had been left wide open.

"Why not close the gate?" he pointed out. Undyne ignored him, instead calling out to you and Papyrus,

"Okay, punks! Remember the rules! No hits below the belt! No biting! All souls stay firmly in their respective bodies! First one to cry 'uncle' loses!!!" A bead of sweat formed on Sans' brow. That wasn't very many rules... He walked around to the other side of the arena to get a better look at you. Despite him very blatantly crossing your line of sight, you didn't look at him. Your eyes were fixed on Papyrus as you crouched, ready to go. You were smiling a little, but that wasn't enough to put Sans at ease. You looked so small in the big arena, and with your cane... This didn't seem like a good idea.

"Ready... Set... GO!!!"

Immediately, Papyrus launched a volley of bones at you. Sans clenched his teeth as he watched them soar toward you, calculating in his mind how much damage they would do. But they never hit their mark. If Sans had blinked, he would've missed it. There was a flash of silver, then the _CRACK!_ of a whip. Splinters of bone fell at your feet, and you were left holding some kind of chain. Even from all the way across the arena, Sans could feel the energy practically radiating off of the magical weapon.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't _that._

Papyrus cackled, happier than anyone else would've been to be thwarted. He threw more bones your way, trying out various attack patterns, but you were too quick. You sliced and diced with your chain, cutting through the bone attacks like they were butter. When Papyrus got warmed up and the bones started coming at you faster than you could handle, you began swinging your chain in a wide circle in front of you. You got it moving so fast that Sans couldn't even see it; could only see the destruction it reigned on any bones that dared fly near it. Eventually, Papyrus realized that this approach was a non-starter. He quit making bones, putting his hands on his hips and cackling instead.

"NYEH HEH HEH! You are very good, sibling! A worthy opponent!!!" Seeing that Papyrus had stopped, you halted your chain's momentum with a powerful strike to the floor. It cracked on the rubber mat menacingly.

"Come on, then! Give it your best shot!" You spread your arms out tauntingly, but you were grinning from ear to ear. Sans knew from sparring alongside you as Orion that you were competitive, but somehow he couldn't have imagined you getting this into it. This wasn't the same timid, perpetually frightened person he'd come to know over the past months. Nor was this same spirited, but ultimately non-confrontational person he'd fallen in love with. This was... someone else.

"Very well!" Papyrus stood up straighter. He wasn't wearing his armor, which was a rare sight. Probably an attempt to level the playing field since you weren't wearing any protective gear, either.

Without further warning, Papyrus held out his hand and enveloped you in blue magic. Sans couldn't see it, but he could feel it. He was sure you could, too, especially when Pap flung you sideways. It would've been easier for Papyrus if he'd been allowed to take your soul out of your body, but that was against the rules. As it was, he was only able to send you skidding short ways, but it was enough to unbalance you. You were forced to drop everything you were holding so that you could throw your hands out and catch yourself before your face slammed into the floor. Your chain disappeared, while your cane went clattering to the ground. You reached out to try and snatch it back, but Papyrus used blue magic again to send it soaring through the air. It smacked into the chain link fence right in front of Sans, making him flinch. 

Sans almost said something then. It seemed too mean of Papyrus to take your cane away from you. He didn't like that. 

You didn't protest, though. You made a show of struggling to get to your feet and failing, but Sans could tell you were faking. Papyrus apparently couldn't, though. He closed the distance between the two of you with long strides. A sharp, sword-like bone manifested in his hand. He swung it down at you and, again, Sans almost stopped him. He felt his own eyes go dark while magic hummed in his bones. The only thing that stayed his hand was the certainty that Papyrus didn't want to actually hurt you. Magical attacks were purely driven by intent; as dangerous as it looked, the bone sword wouldn't leave a scratch on you if Papyrus didn't want it to.

It ended up being a moot point, anyway. As soon as the sword started swinging toward you, you surged up on your knees and blocked it with your wrist. Sans had to squint to see that the chain had rematerialized around your lower arm, protecting your skin against the blow. In one swift motion, you twisted around, grabbed the bone sword, and yanked it toward you. Papyrus had to choose between letting go of his weapon or getting pulled down to the ground with you, and he chose the latter. 

He fell over you and rolled on the mat, popping back up onto his feet smoothly. In that time, though, you let the chain whip fall off of your arm and lashed out with it. It caught Papyrus in the chest with a _crack!_ If it had been a normal whip, the force at which the metal hit his ribs would've surely broken bones. As it was, though, Papyrus simply winced and stumbled a little before whirling around to attack again with his sword. 

The two of you went on like that for a bit, exchanging blows back and forth. You stayed on the floor for the most part; Papyrus' unrelenting attacks kept you from standing up, which was a difficult enough process for you without your cane. But you made the most of your situation, and the seemingly disadvantageous position didn't appear to hamper you all that much. Still, you were clearly on the defensive. You may have been able to hold your own for a while, but it was inevitable that Papyrus would get the upper hand eventually.

That time came when Papyrus managed to hit your chain-holding wrist with the bone sword. You let out a surprised yelp. The blunt force of the hit made you let go of the chain, which went flying. As soon as it was out of your control, it disappeared, and you were left weaponless. After a short struggle, you ended up pinned on your back. Papyrus kneeled on your legs and pressed the sword to your neck smugly.

"Nyeh heh heh! Give up, sibling! I, The Great Papyrus, have bested you in honorable combat!!!"

You said nothing. You turned your head toward Sans. For a moment, he thought you were looking to him for strength. He started to give you an encouraging smile before realizing that you weren't looking at him, at all. Your eyes were fixed on a point in front of him... Your cane, still lying on the ground near the fence.

A tingling feeling exploded in the back of his skull as he watched your right eye flash with a bright, blue light. Your arm shot out toward him, but, alarmingly, your limb seemed to disappear at the elbow. Sans just managed to see the lower half of your disembodied arm appear near him on the other side of the fence before your hand wrapped around the rubber foot of your cane. You pulled your prize through the self-made shortcut and, before he could process what happened, swung it at Papyrus' head. 

The chains may have been made of magic, but the cane certainly was not. It cracked against Papyrus' skull hard enough to send him reeling back. You followed his motion, surging up to tackle him while he was dazed. With one hand, you pried the bone sword out of Papyrus' grasp and tossed it to the side. With the other, you raised your cane again, a wild look in your eyes as you prepared to strike-

"Uncle!" Papyrus cried out. 

You blinked, then slowly lowered your cane. As if in a dream-like state, you touched the side of your face with your right hand. 

Suddenly, you snapped out of whatever trance you were in. A huge grin lit up your expression.

"Did you see that?!? I made a shortcut!" You pointed, even though no one but Sans could see it. It was there, that was for sure... Sans didn't have to look very hard to see the brand new seam in the fabric of reality. From your reaction, he had to assume that this wasn't a common occurrence for you.

"Is that what happened???" Papyrus asked. He sat up and rubbed his head. "In that case, CONGRATULATIONS!!!" He leaned forward and embraced you in a hug. You laughed and hugged him back.

"Sorry about your head. Are you okay?"

"Yes! I am perfectly well! It takes more than a swing to the noggin to knock me out!!!"

"Are you sure?"

"YES. Are _you_ okay? No dislocations???"

" _Yes!_ I mean, no! I'm good."

While you and Papyrus talked through your post-battle high, Sans noticed Undyne approaching him out of his peripheral vision. He didn't turn to face her, but kept watching you carefully. She followed his gaze and put her hands on her hips.

"They're pretty damn good, right?"

"Do they dislocate their joints often?" he asked quietly, putting his hand on the fence. He watched you laughing along with his brother without really hearing what you were saying. 

"Oh, they're fiiiine. Don't worry about it!" Undyne thumped him on the shoulder. He didn't find that reassuring in the slightest. "Pretty cool though, don't you think?"

Sans hesitated before answering. There'd been something in your eyes at the end there... You'd taken that sparring a little more seriously than Papyrus. He didn't seem hurt at all, but Sans couldn't believe you'd hit him as hard as you did.

"It was alright," he said noncommittally. 

"Whaddya mean alright?!?" She put her hands on his shoulders and turned him around, forcibly breaking his line of sight on you. "Look at how well they're doing! They're so much better now!"

"Just 'cause they can fight doesn't mean they're better," Sans snapped, "Besides... If this was a real fight, Papyrus coulda taken them out when he had them pinned. They'd never last against an opponent who was bent on killin' them."

"You think so?" 

If Sans had any blood, it would've run cold at the sound of the voice behind him. Slowly, he turned around to face you. He hadn't thought you would've been able to get out of the arena so quickly. Had you taken another shortcut?

Your expression was contorted with anger. Your hands were balled into fists at your sides. Even though the fight had ended a couple minutes ago, you were still breathing heavily. Placatingly, Sans held out his hands palm-up.

"Look... Whaddya think you're doin' here? If this is all just for fun, that's one thing. But you're gonna get yourself hurt if you think-"

"It's not for _fun_! You know why I'm doing this!" you shouted, taking a threatening step toward him. Sans had to think for a moment, because he really _didn't_ know why you were acting this way.

It took a minute for it to click. You weren't training to be in the Royal Guard. You were training to fight a very specific enemy...

"No," he growled authoritatively, "Get that idea out of your head _now_. You can't seriously think you'll stand a chance of-"

"Why not?" you challenged, taking another step forward until you were right in his face. "Maybe you're willing to put a band-aid on the problem and call it good, but don't expect me to just be fine with the way things are!" With sharp, jerky movements, you took off the blue sweater you were wearing. Sans didn't know what you were doing until you shoved it in his chest. His hands came up automatically to catch it before it fell.

"I don't care what you do, but _I'm_ going to put a stop to all of this. You just... Just stay away from me!"

Sans couldn't do anything other than stare at you numbly as you turned around and walked off. He clutched the fabric of his old hoodie in his hands, running his thumb over the messy stitches in the back. Over time, they had become loose and frayed. He picked at one, and it just... fell apart in his hand.

"Sibling!" Papyrus cried out before running after you. His thudding footsteps grew quieter until they faded away altogether. There was a moment of silence between him and Undyne before she spoke,

"You're a real piece of work, Sans."

" _Me?_ " Sans said incredulously, " _I'm_ being the piece of work?"

"Yeah!" she shouted angrily, "Would it kill you to be supportive of them?"

Sans couldn't believe what he was hearing. _Supportive_? Of you trying to get yourself killed? Because that was what was going to happen. If you seriously thought you were going to try to fight _Gaster_...

"You don't understand... They're not doing this to get in the Royal Guard. They're doing it 'cause they want revenge."

"SO WHAT??? If they wanna kick some ass, let them kick some ass! God knows they deserve a little vengeance! And you know what?" She stuck a finger in Sans' face with a snarl. "Maybe they wouldn't be this way if _you_ hadn't left them, to begin with!"

Sans flinched, then smacked her finger away from him. His eyes were black, bottomless pits. 

"Don't say that. I've got the right to leave if I want to... For any reason. And I had some _damn good_ reasons." Undyne snorted. She shook her head in disbelief.

"Yeah, maybe. But that doesn't make you not an asshole for doing it."

With that, she turned her back on Sans and left. Probably to go find you and Papyrus. Sans let her go, unwilling to argue with someone who didn't know what the hell they were talking about, anyway.

Once she rounded the corner, Sans inhaled sharply and crumpled his hoodie into a ball. He reeled his arm back, preparing to throw it over the fence into the arena. But... he hesitated. He ground his teeth together.

Gradually, he let out the breath he'd been holding. It whistled through his clenched teeth. His arm lowered incrementally until he was holding the sweater limply at his side. He looked down at it one more time before opening up the shortcuts nearby. Before he left, he shot one last fearful glance at the new portal you'd made.

If you were really serious about going after Gaster, then you were going to die. It was as simple as that. Sans could only hope you didn't mean it... Or that you'd see reason before charging into the void half-cocked. It seemed like him telling you it was a dumb idea was only going to make you more determined to go through with it, so he needed to back off. At the same time, though, he'd have to keep an eye on you. Make sure you didn't do anything reckless. 

Sans sighed again. More forcefully, this time. Why were you so mad at him? He hadn't done anything wrong. Well, apart from... everything he'd done wrong. But you hadn't been angry at dinner a few days ago, and he hadn't done anything since then. Why were you suddenly so pissed off now?

One thing was for sure... The answers to those questions weren't going to appear out of nowhere if he stood here long enough. Without further ado, Sans tucked his hoodie under his arm and walked through a shortcut. 

He had work to do in the lab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know when you see those latin chapter titles that shit's about to go down ;)


	49. The Human Race

Even though you didn't blame them in the slightest, your friends seemed to feel bad for how poorly the sparring idea had gone. They didn't say it, necessarily, but they spent extra time trying to hang out with you and cheer you up over the next few days. 

Alphys finally found time to watch a movie with you that you'd been meaning to see together. You didn't get to spend time alone with her very often, so it was a nice treat. She took a whole day off from the lab and watched it with you after your morning training. The two of you went overboard with the snacks... So stuffed full with popcorn, pretzels, and chocolate that neither of you were hungry for dinner that night. You barely even paid attention to the movie; it was some romantic drama involving a body-changing alien and a starry-eyed high school girl. The plot was far too convoluted for something that was supposed to be a mind-numbing chick flick. You and Alphys criticized it together as you watched, laughing to yourselves at how bad it was. 

"Th-this movie is so bad that I'm s-sorry I made you watch it!" Alphys commented while the credits rolled.

"This movie is so bad that I would've rather watched paint dry."

"This movie is so bad th-that I wish I'd gone to w-work instead."

"This movie is so bad that I wouldn't watch it again if you paid me."

"This movie is so b-bad that I wouldn't w-want my name in the credits if I'd been involved in m-making it."

"This movie is so bad that I wish I could reset the timeline just to avoid having ever seen it."

That got a snorting laugh out of Alphys, who conceded, "Okay, you win!" 

The day after that, Papyrus took you out on patrols with him. You'd shadowed Undyne at work before, but never Papyrus. He was, apparently, the head guard of Snowdin. This involved... Really, much of the same stuff he used to do in previous timelines when he wasn't a Royal Guard. The only difference was that his puzzles were government-sanctioned now, so he had access to more sophisticated technology. He took you on a grand tour, making you test out all of the puzzles to ensure they were of sufficient quality to stop a human.

"Why do you need puzzles if you aren't capturing humans anymore?" you asked while stuck in the middle of an invisible maze. Thankfully, this one didn't shock you if you messed up. But running headfirst into invisible walls wasn't very pleasant, either. 

"To slow down potential intruders, of course!!!" Papyrus answered with his hands on his hips. "There is still an entrance to the Underground through the Ruins, you know! No one has fallen down it since Frisk, but that doesn't mean they couldn't!!!"

You supposed that was a fair point. However, with the new blockades Reives had put up to prevent stragglers from going on the mountain and meeting an unpleasant end, you were pretty confident no more humans would be falling into the Underground. You didn't want Papyrus to feel like his job wasn't important, though, so you held your tongue about that. 

After ensuring that the puzzles were, indeed, difficult enough to slow you down, Papyrus led you back to town. There, you got to see the other side of his job, which was regular old crime fighting. The kind of crimes that were going on in a small town like Snowdin were not the same as those that probably happened from time to time in, say, New Home, though. Less murder and theft, more teens playing loud music and moms having petty arguments over their kids not getting along.

"Of course, Mrs. Bainsbury! I will personally make sure that MK apologizes to Tommy!!!" Papyrus assured one disgruntled mom. The fact that he took everyone's problems so seriously, no matter how small, brought a smile to your face.

While following Papyrus around talking to the citizens, you came across one villager who was a familiar face. You spotted Green while he was walking out of the library, a small pile of books slung under his arm. 

"Hey! Green!" you called out to him with a wave. The guard turned and waved back. Papyrus positively lit up when he saw who you were looking at. He darted over to the human while you walked in his wake at a slower pace.

"OFFICER GREEN!!! How are you on this fine afternoon???"

"Good," Green answered in his usual succinct fashion. As you approached, he shot you a curious, knowing look. You hadn't spoken to him since he found out about the Gaster stuff... You hadn't spoken to any of the guards except for Charlie, in fact. You wondered what he thought about all of this. You couldn't ask in present company, however.

"More books??? You must read even more than my brother!" Papyrus commented, making your jaw clench at the mention of Sans.

"Dunno about that. Pretty sure he already read the whole library, with how many recommendations he has."

Green's reply only made it worse. So Sans had come to visit him in Snowdin... You supposed that made sense, since he basically worked for Reives and the guards. You had to bite your tongue to keep from saying something negative. It would've only made things awkward.

After visiting with Green for a little while and solving a couple more petty, small town problems, Papyrus' work day was done. You supposed you wouldn't mind doing stuff like this, if Undyne did decide to make you a Royal Guard. You didn't think you would find it as fulfilling as ambassador work, but it was certainly less stressful.

Speaking of Undyne... Out of all of your friends, she seemed to feel the worst about what had happened with Sans. She even apologized to you directly, which you brushed off with a dismissive "Don't worry about it." She didn't take you out to do anything particularly unusual, but your training got ramped up in intensity by several notches. She had you sparring not only with herself and Papyrus, but with other Royal Guard members. Your win rate was about 50/50. Undyne insisted that was really good, but you couldn't help but to be frustrated with those numbers. Sure, the monsters you were going up against were trained professionals, but they paled in comparison to who you were _really_ training to fight.

You weren't stupid. You knew Sans was at least partially right; you were nowhere near ready to go up against Gaster. But it wasn't like you were about to run into the void and take him on at a moment's notice. You weren't looking to go on a suicide mission. At the same time, though... You knew you could do it eventually. You _had_ to. You hadn't been this confident in yourself since before all of this shit happened. And if Sans was going to try to make you doubt your own abilities, then he could go fuck himself.

Unfortunately, you saw Sans around more often nowadays. Never near enough for either of you to speak to each other, but just... around. Of course, now that you _didn't_ want to see him, he was all over the place. Sitting on his porch, walking down the street... loitering. You had a feeling he was watching you, but you couldn't prove it. It was infuriating.

It seemed that camp was just full of people you didn't want to talk to. One day, late in the afternoon when all of your friends were busy and you were home alone, you heard a knock on the door from one such person. The old houses had been built without peepholes, so you didn't know who it was until you opened the door.

"Reives," you said, trying to keep the surprise from showing on your face. You hadn't seen hide nor hair of him since your big blow-up argument in the Northwest tower. A lot had changed since then. But why would he be here, in camp, on a Friday? 

"Are you alone?" he asked in lieu of a greeting. He straightened his tie and leaned to the side to look past you into the house. He looked... ruffled.

"...Yes?" you answered, already concerned by the direction this was going.

"Good." Reives fixed you with a serious look. "Ordinarily, I would not bother you with this, but it's gotten to the point where I have no choice. May I come in?"

Dread settled like a pit in your stomach, but you swung the door open wide all the same. Reives brushed past you to get inside. As soon as you shut the door behind him, he turned around to face you and said,

"There have been more disappearances. Three in the past week." Your eyes widened with shock. No... That shouldn't have been possible. Before you could voice that thought, however, Reives barrelled on, "All park rangers... The people who have been making sure others stay away from the mountain. Frankly, I am at a loss as far as what to do. Merely putting up signs will not deter people from going on the mountain, but I cannot keep sending guards out there to their deaths." Your mouth hung slightly agape as you listened to him. When he was done, you asked,

" _More_ people are missing? But... How is that possible? Are you sure it's... Gaster?" The name tasted like bile in your mouth, but you forced it out anyway. "Check the missing people's phones. If it's him, there should be messages..."

"Most people don't leave their phones behind when they go missing. But, yes, we checked the one person who did leave theirs. There was nothing... No suspicious messages." 

"It might not be him, then," you pointed out, hopeful. Reives gave you a doubtful look. "Besides, we've got all of the entrances to the void on lockdown. How could he possibly be kidnapping more people?"

"You tell me," Reives retorted. He rubbed his forehead, then sighed and asked, "Are there _any_ other locations you can think of that he might be able to get to people through? Really think about it. Please."

Reives sounded desperate enough that you humored him. If there was another high-density shortcut location, it had to either be on the mountain or in the Underground. If it wasn't, then Gaster wouldn't have been limited to kidnapping park rangers. But the only places with an unusually high number of shortcuts that you could think of were the barn, your old house, and Sans' basement, and those were all already covered. 

"Sorry, I can't think of anything. But... Sans would probably be a better person to ask," you admitted reluctantly, "He can actually see the shortcuts. I can't."

"I know. I already asked him before coming to you. He couldn't think of any, either." He put his hands in his pockets and tapped his foot on the ground, frowning as he did so. 

This was followed by a long, awkward silence. Your mind raced as you thought about the missing rangers. Could it really have been Gaster's doing? You couldn't think of how that would be possible, but you couldn't deny that it was suspicious that people were going missing again. Maybe there was something else going on entirely, but that seemed unlikely. 

If it was Gaster, then... How close was he to achieving his goal? At what point would he be fully corporeal and ready to reenter the real world? You shuddered at the thought. You didn't know what the hell he planned on doing once he got out, but you couldn't let that happen. You had to plug up whatever this leak was before he had the chance to get his hands on anymore souls.

Reives cleared his throat, which shook you out of your thoughts. He furrowed his brow at you, then said while not quite looking you in the eyes,

"You know, I do want to say... I am sorry about everything that happened with Frisk."

That caught you so off guard that you had to replay what he'd said in your mind before you could process it. You looked down at your feet, feeling awkward. You hadn't been expecting an apology from Reives, of all people. Besides... That whole argument felt like it happened so long ago that it hardly even mattered in the wake of everything that had occured since.

"It's okay... I found out what Sans did," you said gruffly, "So, uh... I guess I don't blame you. You couldn't really ignore that." Absentmindedly, you nudged the leg of the coffee table with the toe of your shoe. "Sorry I freaked out on you. It was unprofessional." Reives hummed in agreement.

"I understand. I forget how young you are, sometimes. This was a lot to put on you... It always has been." He laughed to himself, then shook his head and added, "You know, I didn't even want to send Frisk away. You were always such a pain in the ass, and having someone to take care of at least distracted you somewhat..." He paused, shuffling his weight from foot to foot. "I think I'm looking forward to the day when you're ready to go back to being a pain in my ass."

You looked up at him, your brow furrowed. That was an awfully strange way for him to say that he missed you, but you supposed you were... touched?

"Thanks, I guess." You hoped he was done now, because Reives was the last person you wanted to have a heart-to-heart with. Although, when it came down to it, you had to admit that he wasn't so bad. A mixed bag, for sure. But an enemy... Not so much. You had too much first-hand experience with real evil to keep thinking that Reives fell in that category.

"Right. Well, if you or Sans think of anything regarding the... situation, let me know."

"Sure thing," you mumbled. Hesitantly, Reives held out his hand to you. You pursed your lips, but ultimately took the offered hand and gave it a firm shake. With that, Reives let himself out of the house, leaving you alone with a lot to think about.

You sighed. This was a huge problem, to put it mildly. You had to figure out why people were going missing and how to stop it as soon as possible. You'd told yourself that you wouldn't let anyone else die from this. If it really was Gaster who took those people, then you'd failed. 

With that thought weighing heavy on your mind, you knew what you had to do. You had to talk to Sans about this. The two of you were the only ones who knew the whole story; you had to make sure you were both on the same page. To not do so would've been reckless, and could potentially endanger people's lives. As much as you didn't want to talk to him, you really didn't have a choice in the matter.

With jerky, frustrated movements, you snatched up your cane and headed out the door. You just saw Reives' station wagon pulling up to the gate to leave as you crossed the street toward the new houses. You wasted no time before knocking on the door determinedly. 

However, it wasn't Sans who answered.

"Oh ho! Hello, sibling!" Papyrus greeted you enthusiastically. You gave him a strained smile.

"Hey, Papyrus. Is Sans home?" you asked, trying hard to keep your tone of voice as neutral as possible so Papyrus wouldn't think you were mad at his brother. 

"You are the second person to come here asking for Sans. Agent Reives was here earlier, too! Is something going on???"

"No," you answered automatically, then realized Papyrus wasn't dumb enough to fall for that and amended, "Well, yeah, but nothing you need to worry about. I just need to ask Sans something... I'll be quick." Papyrus crossed his arms.

"Well, you just missed him! A few minutes after Agent Reives left, Sans went to the newly-remodeled Northwest tower to speak to Officer Charlie! I wanted to go with him to offer my expert advice on the new interior design, but Sans was insistent that I stay here! He seemed to be in an awful hurry..."

You frowned. That didn't sound good. What could Sans have possibly needed to tell Charlie? Had he remembered a shortcut hub that you didn't know about?

"Thanks, Pap," you said absentmindedly. You didn't wait for his response before turning around and beginning to walk down the road. 

"Of course! Anytime!" 

You hobbled as fast as you could down the road without breaking into a jog. As you walked, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and gave Sans' number a call. You needn't have bothered, though; it went straight to voicemail. His phone was off.

Something was wrong... You could feel it. Why would Sans turn his phone off? And why go all the way to Charlie's tower to talk to him when he could've just told Reives whatever it was he'd thought of, instead? He would've seen Reives' car still parked on the road... Would've known he was still in camp. There was something you were missing, you were sure of it.

Urgently, you trekked through the forest, taking the well-worn path to the Northwest tower. Construction on it must've just finished yesterday; you hadn't even been aware it was open again. You started off taking the stairs two at a time, but were forced to slow down when you got tired. By the time you made it up to the top, you were panting heavily.

The base seemed to have just been patched up, but the top of the tower had been completely remodeled. There was glass in the windows now, and a nicer table and chairs. 

You couldn't see anything other than that, though. Your view of the interior of the tower was rather obscured by all of the shortcuts opening and closing inside.

It was utter chaos. You stood clutching the railing at the top of the stairs, your mouth agape as you watched the mind-boggling show. Orbs of interdimensional portals leading to all kinds of different places were shrinking and expanding at a rapid rate. You couldn't discern where any of them led to; they were flashing too fast for you to comprehend. On top of that, you felt an immense tingling sensation in the back of your mind. The buzz of electricity was so all-consuming that there _had_ to be more shortcuts opening and closing than just the ones you could see. It was probably all of the shortcuts in the tower; both the ones that had already been there, and the ones you'd made more recently in your fit of fear and anger.

Between the unexpected sight and the overwhelming feeling of electricity in your brain, it took you a heartbeat to understand what had happened. Shortcuts were flashing open and closed, just like before at the barn... And Sans and Charlie were nowhere to be seen.

Your breath caught in your throat. You lunged for the door, flinging it open and throwing yourself into the room. Before you could get in, though, the shortcuts all stopped flashing at the same time. You were too late... You were left standing alone in an empty tower, the doors shut and locked on a gateway to hell of your own making.


	50. Karmatic Retribution

You'd been up and down the Northwest tower countless times, but never had you flown down those stairs as fast as you did on that day.

As you flung yourself down the spiral staircase, your mind raced at a million miles an hour. Gaster took them. He took Sans and Charlie. They were in the void. The void...

You had to get to the void.

There was no question in your mind. You had to save them. There was no other choice. Sans couldn't win alone against Gaster. That much had already been established. And you couldn't imagine Charlie would be much help in a fight with a monster. You had to save them.

_You had to save them._

You weren't ready. You thought you had time... Time to train. Time to prepare. This wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't ready you weren't ready you weren't ready you weren't-

You crashed through the trees and, in a daze, stumbled on the pavement of the main road. If you hadn't had your cane to catch yourself with, you would've fallen right on your face. Unable to continue at the rate you had been, you ducked behind the first house you saw and leaned against its siding. You clutched your chest with your hand as you took huge, gasping breaths. No, no... You had to keep it together. This was important. Sans and Charlie could die...

You could _not_ let Sans...

Every ounce of anger you'd felt toward him flew right out the window. Whatever bad blood was between you didn't matter in the slightest. Sans was in danger, and you had to pull yourself together. There was really no other option, because if Gaster killed...

You couldn't even finish that thought. You choked on a sob, your free hand flying up to your mouth to muffle it. _Would_ Gaster kill Sans? You knew that vile, disgusting, heartless monster better than anyone in this timeline, and even you didn't know that. He hadn't killed him last time, but now... You didn't know.

He would certainly kill Charlie, though, and that was more than enough of a reason to pull yourself together and figure this out.

With a great effort, you forced yourself to take deep breaths. You had to think... How were you going to get to the void?

You thought you had an idea, but first, you pushed away from the wall you were leaning on and started walking briskly toward Undyne and Alphys' house. You hated wasting time, but it was worth the extra three minutes it would take to get your armor. When you burst through the front door, you found that there was still no one home. It was hard to believe you'd only been gone for maybe ten minutes, at most. 

As you dug through the closet and started methodically putting on your weightless, chainmail armor, you wracked your brain searching for anything else you had to do before you could leave. You had your cane and your armor... That was really all you needed. Was there anyone you should call? Notes you should leave? You didn't think so. If you didn't come back, then you didn't come back. You had nothing to say for yourself, in that case.

Once you were dressed, you marched back outside. You could've done it in your room, but that just didn't seem right. You felt like you needed more space than that. 

You walked down the street, away from the entrance to the Underground, but stopped before you got to the edge of the cliff. You planted your feet on the ground and closed your eyes. You hadn't managed to make a shortcut on command since that first sparring session with Papyrus, but you couldn't think of any other way to get to the void. You had to be able to do it... You just _had_ to.

For the first time ever, you _tried_ to think about that place. The long, dark hallway. The cells with their searing, magical bars. The bodies slumped against the walls, their faces turned away from the light...

You thought about Sans being stuck in there, and your eyes shot open. The right one flared with blue fire.

The energy burned through you like a spark to a puddle of gasoline. You were left slumping against your cane, gasping for air. But it had worked... To some extent. There was a brand new, spherical shortcut right in front of you, but it didn't open up into the void. Instead, you saw the warped image of the front of the barn.

For a moment, you felt betrayed. Why hadn't it worked? But then, you remembered. You already had a portal to the void pre-made in the barn from when you escaped Gaster the first time. Maybe there was something about the void that prevented you from making shortcuts directly to it. You wouldn't have been surprised if that was the case; the void had many strange properties that you didn't fully understand. But, barring the ability to bring you to Sans directly, your magic had taken you to the next best place. All you had to do was hop through a second shortcut, and you'd be there.

Without hesitation, you barrelled through the shortcut to the barn, uncaring that you were about to vanish in the middle of the road, in full view of anyone who happened to be looking out their windows. The transition from the road to the clearing outside of the barn was seamless; you wouldn't have known you'd just travelled miles away if it weren't for the change in footing from solid pavement to soft, untamed grass. With tunnel vision in full effect, you marched toward the barn's heavy, sliding door. Someone must've closed it at some point. In fact, when you got right up to it, you saw that someone had affixed a new, hook-like lock on the door. It would've made more sense if it was made for keeping people out, but the lock latched from the outside. You couldn't think of why that would be, but you didn't try very hard, either. With fingers trembling from anticipation, you unlatched the lock and started pushing the door open.

"HEY!" A voice shouted behind you. You almost jumped out of your skin. Before you could whirl around to see who it was, a hand grabbed you by the collar and yanked you away from the door roughly. You were nearly pulled right off of your feet. As it was, you had no choice but to go where the intruder shoved you, which was back toward the shortcut you'd come in from. As soon as you were let go, you stumbled to regain your balance and turned around to see a familiar face.

Samuelsson. Right... You should've known he would be there, guarding the barn and keeping stragglers from entering. He stood between you and the now open door, his gun raised to point directly at your face. Your breath caught in your throat. You raised your hands in surrender.

"Hey, it's just me. There's been an emergency... I have get into the barn," you explained quickly, but demurely. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the gun. "Can you let me pass, please?" Samuelsson's expression was hard as stone.

"No."

He took a step toward you. You took a step back. You began to sweat.

"Um... It's really important. Gaster took Sans and Charlie. I have to get in there and-"

"He took Tucker?" Samuelsson asked, but his tone seemed... off. Almost... relieved? "It's almost over, then. Thank God."

Your heart skipped a beat. What did that...

"What does that mean?" you voiced the question out loud, your tone a little too shrill. "Samuelsson, what's going on?"

"He only needs one more." The guard laughed and took one hand off of his gun to run it through his hair. "Tucker's the last one. It'll finally be over. I don't have to get any more..."

Dawning horror slowly spread on your face. The missing park rangers... Of course, they couldn't have disappeared in the Northwest tower when it had still been under construction. They had to have been going missing somewhere else on the mountain...

"Have you been... _feeding_ people to Gaster?" 

"DON'T SAY THAT" he shouted, his gun shaking in his hand. You stared at it with wide eyes, your breath coming quick. "You're a liar! You lied to us all! You said he's a murderer, but he ain't! I saw Hernandez... I _talked_ to him!" It took you two, frantic heartbeats to realize what must've happened. Maybe Samuelsson really had seen Hernandez... Gaster was a necromancer, after all.

"That wasn't... wasn't Hernandez. It was Gaster controlling his dead body. It was just magic..."

"No it wasn't! If he was really killin' folks, then how did you survive? Huh?" He took another few steps toward you, his face red with anger. You scrambled back to preserve the distance between you.

"I... It was a fluke..."

"STOP TALKING!"

You shut up immediately. This guy was fucking crazy... You didn't know if he'd always been and you just hadn't noticed, or if something about being alone in the woods for as long as he had been had turned him into a psycho. Maybe a combination of the two. Either way, you had to get out of there. 

Samuelsson ran his fingers through his hair again, his hands shaking even worse than before. 

"I... Can't let you go tellin' people," he murmured, then nodded to himself. He looked back up at you, his expression hard as he ordered,

"Drop the cane and get on your knees."

You couldn't believe this. What was he going to do? Was he going to... Execute you? This was insane... You were _not_ going to let yourself get killed by _Samuelsson_ , of all people, before you could even get to the void. You couldn't let it end like that.

You didn't know precisely where it was... Hadn't paid that much attention when you made it... But all of the backing up you'd done had brought you closer to the portal you'd come in from. As you reopened it, you could feel the buzz in the back of your mind telling you its general location. You couldn't turn around to look... You had to just go for it and hope you'd make it.

With all of your strength, you pushed off from the ground and dove toward the shortcut. A single gunshot pierced the silence of the forest, but your momentum was already carrying you through the portal. When you collapsed in a heap, it was on black pavement. You glanced over your shoulder and got only a brief look at Samuelsson's shocked expression before the shortcut cinched closed behind you.

Your head spun. Your chest rose and fell dramatically as you gasped for air. You rolled onto your back and stared at the deceptively calm, pink and orange clouds drifting lazily across the sky. The sound of the gun going off still rang in your ears.

Suddenly frantic, you sat up and patted yourself down. You were wearing armor, but you highly doubted chainmail would stop a bullet. Luckily, you didn't think you'd been hit. You weren't bleeding from anywhere, anyway.

Once you were sure you hadn't been shot, you dropped your cane and pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes. Your muscles practically quivered with all of the adrenaline running through them. But it wasn't over... Not by a long shot. You were right back where you started; you still had to get to the void. Sans and Charlie were still in danger. You were wasting time.

With that thought, you picked your cane back up and used it to push yourself to your feet. Your knees shook violently as you stood, threatening to send you back to the ground. What were you supposed to do now? You had to get into the barn to get to the void, but Samuelsson would kill you if you went back there. There was no other way to the void. If you couldn't make a shortcut directly there, then you had to use the one in the barn. You had to get past Samuelsson... But you couldn't win a fight against a _gun_. That hadn't been part of Undyne's training regimen.

You could ask for help. Get one of the other guards, or maybe one of your monster friends. But, not only would that have endangered someone else, you didn't have _time_ for that. Gaster could be killing Sans _right now_. You couldn't sit around explaining the situation to an outsider. You needed to do something quickly... You put your hand on your head and looked around, searching desperately for an answer.

It was then that you saw it. Your car. 

...And then you had a really, really stupid idea.

"This is really, really stupid," you said out loud to yourself, even as you forced your sore legs to jog over to where your little white Honda was parked. You threw open the door and hopped into the driver's seat, tossing your cane over to the passenger's side. No one had started this car up in over a month, but your past self had left the keys in the ignition. It was like you'd known.

The engine roared to life under you. Your palms were sweaty as you gripped the steering wheel. You rolled down the window... You needed air. With quick, jerky movements, you threw the car into reverse and backed down the road. Really far down the road. By the time you stopped, your bumper was right up against the cliff face that led up to the entrance to the Underground.

Your breaths came in quick huffs. Your heart pounded painfully under your ribs. You looked up at the rearview mirror and caught sight of your own reflection. You averted your eyes quickly.

"Come on..." you said to yourself, drumming your hands on the steering wheel anxiously. You _had_ to do this. You had to save Sans.

You had to be brave.

The muffler on your old, 16-year-old car wasn't very good, so maybe you shouldn't have been surprised when someone heard all of the noise and left their house to see what was going on. Toriel came out to stand on her porch, looking left and right before spotting you all the way down the road.

"Dear... What ever are you doing?!?" she called out to you. She was too far away for you to be able to see her expression. You revved the engine. Your hands tightened on the wheel. As an afterthought, you reached up and buckled your seatbelt. Finally, you said to yourself, too quiet for Toriel to hear,

"Getting my soul back."

Without further ado, you slammed the car into drive and floored it. Your tires spun out on the pavement before gaining traction and propelling you down the road. Your eyes flickered back and forth between the view out the windshield and the speedometer. You got up to 30... 40... 50 miles per hour...

As you blew past her, Toriel screamed for you to stop. You didn't hear her. You careened down the road, closer and closer to the cliff-

Your eye flared up as you blew open the shortcut at the end of the road as wide as you could get it. 

From the Queen's perspective, you and your car simply disappeared, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust in your wake.

From your perspective, you were suddenly off-roading. Your wheels were fully off of the ground for a half-second, your stomach dropping as you flew for a short ways. Then, the air was punched out of your lungs as the car hit the rocks and dirt with a breathtaking _ba-DUMP!_ You lost control of the vehicle almost immediately; all you could do was jerk the steering wheel in Samuelsson's direction and pray.

You weren't sure if you managed to hit him or not. All you knew was that he was there one moment and gone the next, and you found yourself flying directly at the front wall of the barn at 50 miles per hour...

You had enough experience with car crashes to know to brace yourself. Just before impact, you gripped the steering wheel tightly and pressed your back into the driver's seat. You were still flung forward; still slammed in the chest by the seat belt and airbag. But not hard enough to break bones this time. 

The cacophonous sounds of splintering wood and screeching metal practically deafened you. But, as jarring as the impact was, you wasted no time. As soon as you felt yourself jerk to a stop, you were already fumbling with the seatbelt. Once it was off, you reached over to the passenger's seat and felt around for your cane. You found its handle and dragged it with you as you shoved open the door and tumbled out of the car.

Upon scanning your surroundings, you found what you were looking for almost immediately. A figure lying on the ground about 40 feet away from the new hole you'd made in the side of the barn. You must've at least clipped him, because the angle of his limp, left leg was very, very wrong.

You marched up to him, trying to ignore how mangled his limb was. As you got closer, you saw his gun lying a couple yards away from him. He must've tried to draw it before he was hit. He rolled over, saw you approaching, and located his gun. He scrambled to claw his way over to the weapon, but you ran to get there first. You kicked the gun as hard as you could, punting it right through the cracked-open barn door. You heard an echoy, metallic clatter as it hit the ground somewhere inside. 

" _Fuck,_ " Samuelsson swore. You ignored him. Breathing hard, you crouched down and grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

"What's been going on here? Why've you been helping Gaster?" you demanded to know. His hand, which was speckled with dirt and blood, gripped your wrist feebly. 

"You're f-fucking crazy." He laughed, but his voice shook with fear and pain. 

"TELL ME!" you roared, shaking him a little. He just kept laughing...

You lost your nerve. All at once, you dropped him, stood up straight, and turned away. You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth and closed your eyes. You could just leave him... Could just walk into the barn and face Gaster. But Samuelsson had been working with him. What if he knew something? Something important that you should know before you went barging into the void? 

He wasn't going to tell you. But there was one way you could know for sure, and it would only take a minute...

"This is your last chance," you said, still turned away from him as you spoke, "Tell me everything you know about Gaster."

You rubbed your sternum agitatedly as you waited, but all you ever heard was his ragged breathing. His silence was all the answer you needed.

You gathered yourself before turning back around. Mechanically, you knelt next to Samuelsson. He tried to leverage himself up onto his elbows, but slipped and winced as his shoulders hit the ground. 

"What're you doin'?" he asked, his voice rough and quiet. You didn't answer him. You couldn't. You simply put your hand over his chest and drew it back, bringing his soul out of his body.

Both of your eyes turned to stare at the heart-shaped soul, drawn to its bright, orange light inexorably. You'd half-expected it to have been pitch black; forever sullied by the crimes he'd committed. But no... It looked completely normal. Unmarred. Which made this even more difficult for you.

This was going to haunt you later. Maybe for the rest of your life. You knew that. But if there was even the slightest possibility Samuelsson knew something that would help you save Sans, then there was no question. You were going to do it. This, more than anything else the two of you had done for each other in the past, was how you knew you really would do _anything_ for Sans.

Before Samuelsson could protest, you reached out and grabbed his soul.

An explosion of memories flew by rapid-fire in your mind. Growing up in a trailer park under the care of a single mom who loved you more than anything, but couldn't adequately provide for you. Going to the shitty, Stonewall public school and knowing you would never get out of this backwoods town where people seemed to get trapped like flies in a spiderweb. Having an army recruiter visit your high school senior year and signing up on the spot. Watching your mother cry when you told her...

Joining the army. Being discharged under other than honorable conditions. "Anger management issues," they'd said. You'd gone back home empty-handed. You'd never even gotten out of the state.

Then, you saw a "help wanted" ad online. It gave little to no information about the job... Just that the government was looking for people in the Colorado/Wyoming area with military or police experience. Long hours. High-stress work. Must pass a firearm competency test. Must be willing to relocate. 

You applied immediately, and got asked to interview the next day. Based on your military record, they almost didn't hire you. Agent Wolfe didn't want to, that much was clear. But Reives looked you square in the eyes and told you, "If you promise to stay on longer than a week, you're hired." You were so desperate for a job that you agreed, even after having been warned of the high turnover rate.

The government paid you well. Really well. And all you had to do was sit up in a tower and make sure no monsters crossed the border. You didn't understand what was so high-stress about that until the first field trip to South Ebott. 

You'd been told about magic, but you hadn't really believed it was all true until you saw that huge skeleton freak toss a man around like a ragdoll with nothing but its mind. The chaos that ensued almost got out of hand. You and Daujatas had barely managed to avoid a riot. Ever since then, you could never let your guard down around a monster. 

You wished they would all just go back where they came from. It was harsh, but the fact remained that they were a danger to humanity. Maybe some of them were alright, but there were certainly at least a few bad apples. The whole monster integration movement was ridiculous... Why the hell did Reives think it was a good idea to bring crazy freaks like that into society? He probably didn't... Was probably only in it for the money and political traction it gained him...

You expressed this concern to your coworkers, but they all turned on you. You knew they would see your point eventually, and you were proven right not long after. Turned out, it _had_ been a monster kidnapping and killing people on Mount Ebott all along. The ambassador said so, so it must've been true. They were the biggest monster-lover out there... Were even fucking one of them, if the gossip among the guards was to be believed. So if they said a monster was out there killing people, you were inclined to take their word for it.

Things took a turn for the worse after that. Reives put you out in the middle of nowhere to guard some abandoned barn for reasons you didn't fully understand. The pay raise was astronomical, so you'd agreed straight off the bat. You quickly came to regret that. You'd never been much of a people person, but damn if it wasn't lonely out in the woods. You burned through all of the books you'd downloaded on your phone in less than two weeks, and were left with little else to do other than odd jobs around the dingy shack you were expected to live in.

You had no cell service and no wifi, so you were rather surprised when, one day, you received an email with no return address. It read,

"Hello Caleb,

You do not strike me as a man who would appreciate being played with, so I will get straight to the point. I have been watching you from this barn for quite some time. Perhaps this is presumptuous of me, but you appear to be dissatisfied with the way things have been going. As such, I would like to make you an offer.

You have been lied to about the nature of the disappearances on Mount Ebott. All of the humans who have gone missing on the mountain are still very much alive. I can, and will, prove this to you in due time. For right now, I ask that you take my word for it. They are all in good health, and many of them are helping me willingly.

My only wish is to reseal the barrier. As a monster, myself, I can tell you with certainty that the integration of monsters and humans would only end poorly for both sides. We are not meant to mingle. Take one look at the psychotic ambassador or the mute child and you will see this clearly enough. Our magic does not play nicely with humanity. Humanity's weapons of mass destruction will not play nicely with us, when it inevitably comes to that. It will benefit us both if the barrier is reformed and, thus, peace restored.

As you may or may not be aware, the barrier was initially created by humans. It requires humans to recreate. This is the purpose for which I have been recruiting people.

The ambassador, the King, and the human government do not want the barrier reformed. They have been spreading lies about me, using fear-mongering tactics to persuade guards, such as yourself, to block my access to humanity. I would advise you not to take what they say at face value.

By my estimation, I will need only four more people to reseal the barrier. Once that happens, I will gladly release every human who has aided me thus far. All I ask of you is to bring me those last four people. Any humans will do. Simply lead them to the barn, and I will do the rest.

Please, consider my offer before blindly reporting me to your superiors. I implore you to do the right thing.

-Dr. W.D. Gaster"

You read the email. Five times, at least. In the end, your reply consisted of only two words,

"Prove it."

Dr. Gaster did as you requested. A mere ten minutes after sending your response, you saw a figure emerging from within the forbidden barn.

"Hernandez?" you called out, your mouth agape with shock. You hand twitched toward your gun, but you hesitated. It looked _exactly_ like Hernandez. The guy who was supposed to be dead. 

"Hey, bro!" Hernandez waved, smiled, and adjusted the sunglasses he was wearing. "Long time, no see."

Of all of your coworkers, Hernandez was always the one you got along with the best. Your happiness at seeing him alive was genuine; you laughed incredulously and gave him a brief, one-armed hug. You found it strange that he didn't return it. In fact, he kept his right hand in his coat pocket for the whole visit. But you didn't pay much attention to that, as you found his words more fascinating than his odd mannerisms. 

Hernandez explained everything to you. He confirmed everything Dr. Gaster had said in his message. He admitted that he was hesitant about reforming the barrier at first; Hernandez was a softie, so you weren't surprised that his heart bled for the monsters. But even he eventually saw sense and realized that monsters and humans needed to be kept separate... For everyone's safety.

Though he could've easily run off and escaped, Hernandez chose to return to the barn after catching you up on what was going on. That choice, more than anything, convinced you. 

The next day, you hiked down the mountain and led the first human you came across up to the barn at gunpoint. 

It was... not pleasant. You didn't want to have to force people to go where they didn't want to. But it was the fastest way. The faster you could get Dr. Gaster the people he needed, the faster they could all leave and return to their lives.

After the first one, you learned. You installed a lock on the outside of the barn so that you wouldn't have to fight to keep the sliding door closed when people struggled frantically to get out. You brought ropes to tie their hands behind their backs so there wouldn't be any valiant escape attempts during the walk up the mountain. You gagged their mouths with a sock so they couldn't plead with you. It was too upsetting. They just didn't understand that this was for the best. Everyone would get to go home sooner if they just cooperated...

Everyone, including you. For your whole life, you'd wanted to get away so badly. But now, you just wanted all of this to be over so you could go home...

Abruptly, you were thrown out of Samuelsson's memories. As soon as they finished flashing by in your mind, you dropped his soul as if it had burned you. You stumbled away from him, panting and clutching your own chest defensively.

There'd been nothing. Nothing there to warrant touching his soul. You understood better why he'd done what he'd done, but that only made it worse. To watch the tears smearing over the blood, sweat, and dirt on his face. To see the sharp, grotesque angles of his ruined leg. 

You couldn't look at him for long. You had to remind yourself that he'd gotten several people killed... Had fully intended on murdering you in cold blood not even fifteen minutes ago. If anyone deserved a fucked up leg and some emotional scars, it was Samuelsson. It had been worth it on the off chance he'd had some information that would've been helpful in fighting Gaster. You had to keep telling yourself that, anyway.

Still, when you walked away, you couldn't look back. Thank god he didn't try to say anything to you as you slipped past the door and into the barn. He just laid there, deathly silent, his eyes burning holes in the back of your head.

When you got inside, everything was just how you remembered it. The birds in the rafters, the thick layer of dust on the floor... The shortcut right in the middle of it all. There were hundreds of shortcuts all around you, but that was the only one you could see. The jagged seam hovered in the air, beckoning you toward it.

First, however, you veered left. You dropped your cane before ascending up the ladder to the loft. The sight of this place brought waves of uncomfortable nostalgia... From the broken farm machinery to the shattered, full-length mirror. You were only here for one thing, though, and that was hidden within the pitiful, straw bed that Orion had once laid their head on every night.

From under a pile of prickly hay, you dug out the True Knife. You didn't know if you would need it, but you figured you should take every small advantage you could muster. You slipped the knife into the tight space between your chainmail armor and the leather belt around your waist, then descended back down the ladder and retrieved your cane.

Finally, after all of the trouble it had taken to get there, you started walking toward the shortcut. The setting sun cast a shaft of light down on it, but that sunlight was swallowed mercilessly by the darkness of the void's image. You knew you should've been able to see the hallway within the confines of the portal, but there was nothing there except unending blackness. Your hands grew clammy and your knees, weak as you approached it. 

What if you were too late? What if you had wasted too much time, and Sans and Charlie were already...

But that didn't matter. It didn't matter how terrified you were. You had to do this. There was no other option.

You stepped into the shortcut... and let the abyss swallow you whole.

\---

End of BRAVERY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you ever wondered where Orion hid Chara's knife, that's where XD There were a couple of clues, but nothing that I would consider very obvious.
> 
> How about Samuelsson though, eh? Do you think he deserved to have his memories violated, or should Reed have left him be?


	51. The Angel of Death

PART 7 - DETERMINATION

\---

In a split second, you were dropped right into the middle of your worst nightmare. The void. Right back where you'd left off outside of your old cell.

The long, dark corridor was the same, yet different from how you remembered it. You were first struck by how _solid_ everything felt. The little bit of haziness that used to blur the edges of your vision and trick you into thinking you were dreaming was completely gone. It all felt very real, if still unnaturally echoey. 

You could see right into each the cells without having to approach them. There was no more sea green light, as all of the forcefields were down. The cells were open; the bodies had been let out. Bits of them were strewn all over the normally immaculate hallway, their stale blood streaking and pooling on the white floor. No matter where you looked, the gore was everywhere. The only small mercy was that all of the bodies were burned beyond recognition. You couldn't make out any faces. Still, it was a horrific sight.

You let out a sharp cry, then made an aborted motion to cover your eyes. No... You couldn't turn away and cower. You had to find Sans and Charlie.

They were nowhere to be seen, but neither was Gaster. You were alone in the hallway, despite the obvious signs of a battle having taken place. You stumbled forward, past a body that had been impaled through the chest with several sharp bones. Unintentionally, you stepped in a puddle of cold blood. Your shoes and cane left red prints on the ground as you forced yourself toward the door at the end of the hallway. Golden light radiated from the cracked-open door like a beacon of hope in an otherwise hellish landscape.

Eyes up to the light, just don't look down...

As you approached the room from your nightmares, you started to hear murmuring voices piercing the otherwise silent void. You couldn't understand what they were saying until you were near enough to touch the heavy, cold door.

"...Understand your anger, but there is no sense in us fighting. I will be corporeal enough to return to the surface sooner than you realize. You may disagree with my methods, but what is done, is done. We cannot continue like this forever."

Slowly, you leaned forward and peered through the crack in the door. From your angle, there wasn't much you could see except for Gaster's desk in the corner. However, in the reflection of the mirror, you could just barely make out the cross-shaped table on the other side of the room. Someone was strapped to it... Charlie. He seemed to have been knocked out cold. The soul hovering over his chest was the source of yellow light you'd seen. The fact that it was still shining bright was an immense relief. You weren't too late.

"Fuck you." Your heart leapt at the sound of Sans' voice, low and raspy. He seemed exhausted. You strained to try and see more of the room, but Gaster and Sans remained out of sight. "I'll fucking kill you for what you did to them..."

"Oh, Sans, we are well past that," Gaster chided, his tone sounding almost amused. You started shivering, and couldn't stop. "You cannot win against me. This much has already been established."

"You'll have to kill me, then. 'Cause I won't stop tryin'. Never."

There was a long pause. What were you doing? You had to get in there and save Sans... But you were frozen. Fear had you rooted to the ground as surely as if Gaster had taken control of your body. If you went in there, he would see you. And if he saw you, he'd lock you back up. You'd be back where you started, as if you'd never gotten out...

"I did not want it to be this way, but I can see you will not change your mind. You are not the same Sans I once knew." There was a small scuffle, then a _thump!_ and a wince. "Very well. If this is the sacrifice I must make to be free..."

You had to act. There were no two ways about it. The fear was still there, but you transcended it, slamming your shoulder into the door and bursting, recklessly, into the room.

It took you a split second to size up the situation. Sans, pinned to the mirror with blue magic. Gaster, his back to you and hand outstretched toward his would-be victim. He started turning his head to look over his shoulder at you, his concentration unbroken by your loud entrance. That would soon change, though.

Magic was just _bubbling_ under the surface of your skin, waiting to be released. As you reeled your arm back, you let it go. A long chain began to materialize in your hand, still unspooling even as you lashed out with it. In a feat that would've been impossible with a normal whip, the magic weapon wound around Gaster's outstretched arm as you struck it. You yanked it back in the same motion, tugging your enemy toward you and away from Sans. 

Sans fell away form the wall and landed on his knees. For a brief moment, you only had eyes for him. You could read his expression like a book; shock, joy, hope, and horror. You couldn't look at him for long though, as Gaster commanded your attention with a sharp, manic laugh. The sound made your courage and chain vanish in a flash. He took a step toward you on now-fully-corporeal legs, his mouth twisted in a crooked grin.

"Welcome back." 

A cage of tall bones erupted out of the ground, enclosing Gaster on all sides. He had no trouble blasting them all to tiny pieces, but not before Sans managed to slip past him and run to you. He grabbed you by the sleeve of your armor and pulled you toward him. His eyes bore into yours as he ordered frantically,

"Get Charlie. Don't let Gaster touch you."

You heard the familiar sound of a blaster revving up. Sans shoved you away from him just in time for a beam of light to split the new distance between you. The blast made your ears ring so bad that you barely heard Sans shout,

"Go!"

You would've preferred your positions to have been reversed, but this was no time to argue. You let Sans play the part of the distraction as he blocked Gsater in with another cage of bones. This obscured his vision long enough for you dive behind the table Charlie was strapped to.

Unfortunately, you hadn't expected there to already be someone slumped against that side of the table. You'd assumed all of the dead bodies had been left in the hallway. You'd been wrong. 

You barely even registered the body's presence before it lunged at you. This person, whoever they used to be, was much bigger than you. The body tackled you with little effort, your spine slamming into the floor as it threw all of its weight on you. 

Cold hands wrapped around your neck. Its thumbs pressed down on your windpipe, cutting off your air supply. The muscles in your throat spasmed automatically in an effort to bring in oxygen, but to no avail. Panic overwhelmed you. You punched, kicked, and clubbed the body with your cane. Nothing loosened its grip. It was like hitting a punching bag; just a deadweight lying on top of you. It eyes stared into yours unseeingly.

You were starting to see black spots swimming in your vision before you remembered the knife in your belt. You struggled to draw it when it was pinned between you and the floor, but you were finally able to work it loose. Frantic, you stabbed indiscriminately. What would've made a living person let go of you immediately didn't seem to affect the body at all. Stabbing it in the gut, chest, and even the neck did nothing. Only when you sawed at its wrist did its fingers finally go slack, likely because you severed a tendon or muscle that had been crucial to maintaining its grip.

You rolled off of the corpse as soon as you were able, gasping for air on your hands and knees. However, you were given little time to recover. The body was back on you in an instant. Despite being in the process of bleeding out from its jugular, it was still unnaturally powerful. It got to its feet before you could and aimed a kick to your face. You just got your arm up in time to block it from breaking your nose, but it still hurt like a bitch. 

You rolled over. It tried to kick you again, but you were ready this time. You grabbed its leg and pulled. It slammed to the ground on its back.

You didn't know what to do. You had a window of opportunity, but how did one kill something that was already dead? 

The answer came to you when you remembered the bodies in the hallway. Their faces were burned... All of them.

On top of controlling the body attacking you, Gaster was fighting Sans simultaneously. You could hear the clashing of bones and firing of blasters. While your assailant was down, you crawled to the other end of the table and peaked around it. Sans was doing poorly. You saw him get lifted off of his feet with blue magic. Instead of slamming him into a wall like you were expecting, Gaster let him hang in the air. Meanwhile, he summoned a blaster and aimed it directly at his head.

A surge of fierce protectiveness made your eye flare with blue light. Just before it could go off, a shortcut appeared right in front of Sans in the blaster's line of fire. The explosion of magic from the dog skull's maw was completely absorbed by the open shortcut, missing Sans entirely. But what went in had to come out... Which was why you placed the exit portal right above the face of your deceased attacker. 

Something about the corpse's head being completely blown to bits must've made it unusable to Gaster, because it went limp and never got back up. Both Gaster and Sans turned sharply to look at you... Until the latter dropped to the floor and resumed the fight with a volley of flying bones.

You stuffed the now-bloody knife in your belt again before pulling yourself up to your feet. The blaster going off right next to his ear must've woken Charlie up, because he moaned as you began unbuckling his restraints.

"Get up get up get up..." you willed him while your shaky fingers fumbled with the straps. "C'mon, man. I can't carry you."

Thankfully, he came to quickly. He groaned again, but rolled off of the table of his own accord once you had divested him of the final restraint. He fell to the ground on his hands and knees. You hadn't noticed before, but there was a trail of shiney, coagulated blood running down the side of his head. He touched it with his hand before turning to you, his eyes taking a moment to focus.

"I'm... You... What's..." Whatever questions he'd been trying to ask, he seemed to answer them on his own before they could work their way out of his mouth. He put a hand on your shoulder while the other went to his waist. 

"Stay down," he ordered as he drew his gun, his yellow soul still exposed in front of his chest. Before you could stop him, he stood up in a crouch, used the surface of the table to steady his aim, and fired. Several times.

"Wait!" you cried as you grabbed his collar and tried to drag him back down behind cover. There was an ungodly screeching; a scalding sort of scream that seemed to come from the void, itself. You hadn't thought something as mundane as a bullet would affect Gaster at all. A few months ago, it probably wouldn't have. But he was so solid and _real_ now that, when you poked your head above the table, you saw him doubled over and clutching his chest in agony.

For a hopeful second, you thought maybe Charlie'd done it. But then, Gaster dissolved in a cloud of black smoke, raced past you, and rematerialized right behind you and Charlie.

" _Foolish boy,_ " he hissed. He reached out to grab Charlie, but you whirled around and swung your cane at his arm before he got there. Instead of hurting your friend, Gaster grabbed your cane in his hand as though all of the force you'd put behind it had been nothing. He jerked it out of your grasp easily and tossed it aside. 

He reached out for you instead, a hungry look on his face that had you frozen in fear.

Before he could touch you, Charlie raised his gun and shot him again. The combined sound of shots going off right beside you, plus Gaster's unholy screaming, forced you to raise your hands and cover your ears in pain. Unaffected by the terrifying noise, Sans vaulted over the table, grabbed you by the arm, and pulled you away from Gaster. 

As you were being dragged off, Charlie fired his pistol point-blank into Gaster's body over and over again. Until the gun was empty. It made a useless clicking sound as Charlie continued pulling the trigger despite his lack of ammo.

Gaster took a single, shuddering breath before recovering. His expression twisted in anger. His wrath wasn't even directed at you, but it still struck paralyzing fear in your heart. 

With a cold sort of cruelty, he grabbed Charlie's wrist and twisted. There was a _crack!_ and a strangled shout as the officer fell to his knees, the gun dropping to the floor uselessly. Gaster lifted Charlie up by the broken wrist, heedless of the man's screams. Once Charlie's feet were off the ground, he switched to holding him in the air with blue magic. Gaster appraised him for a moment, then flicked his hand dismissively. The yellow soul went flying toward the wall, bringing Charlie along with it. He slammed head-first into the mirror, sliding down it and slumping on the floor. Unconscious again.

"Charlie!" you yelled belatedly. Gaster turned his attention to you and Sans, who was now holding you back from running to your fallen friend.

"I am surprised to see you back here so soon," Gaster said to you as though the last five minutes of fighting for your lives hadn't occurred. His head tilted inquisitively. "Tell me... How have you been holding up with only a partial soul?"

"You know!" you accused in a trembling voice, "I've heard you, I know you've been watching... Whispering to me..." You clutched your head, your breath coming in harsh gasps. Keep it together, keep it together...

Gaster frowned in confusion, then chuckled darkly and shook his head. He walked around the table toward you, his hands clasped behind his back.

"So you are delusional, then. Is this really the proverbial hill you wish to die on, Sans?" His gaze slid past you dismissively to speak to Sans again, his eyes alight with humor. "A broken, schizophrenic human? You should have more respect for yourself. You could do much better."

It took a moment for that to sink in. Unless Gaster was lying, which you didn't think was the case... Those voices had never really been him. He'd never spoken to you in your dreams. Never tried to convince you to sacrifice your parents to the void. Never told you to try grabbing Sans' soul without his consent.

That was all just... you.

You yelled wordlessly, enraged by this revelation. You broke out of Sans' grasp and charged at Gaster. A chain formed in your hand. You were gonna whip that smug look right off his face-

Before you could, he dissolved in a cloud of smoke and dodged past you. You lashed out with your chain, but it only cracked in the air threateningly. You spun around and swung your weapon in a wide arc... Just in time to catch Gaster's hand reaching out to touch your head. He hissed and was forced to dematerialize again as several, sharp bones sprung up from the ground under his feet. 

Gaster's smokey form changed direction to make its way toward Sans again, but you weren't having it. Your eye flared, and a shortcut appeared to cut Gaster off. He ended up right back in front of you, where he'd started. 

"FIGHT ME!" you roared at the smoke, which hovered for a moment before condensing back into Gaster's solid form. You struck the ground with your chain menacingly. He shook his head and scoffed at you.

"As you wish."

You regretted setting that challenge almost immediately. A ring of blasters appeared around you, bearing down on you from all sides. Your heart skipped a beat. You barely managed to slash one with your chain, splitting it clean in half before lunging for the new opening you'd made. You felt the heat from the blasters at your heels as you avoided evisceration by mere inches. 

Unaware that you had escaped, Sans screamed your name. You turned around to locate him, concerned for his safety above all else. But he wasn't where you'd left him. It took the sound of blasters going off behind you to realize that he'd taken the shortcut you'd made and was now on the other side of the room.

Before Gaster could retaliate against Sans, you lashed out with your chain again and tried to catch him in the back. Instead, he sneered at you while snatching the whip right out of the air, winding it once around his wrist before pulling. You had to let go of it to avoid being tugged toward him, at which point it vanished into thin air.

That was enough of a distraction to give Sans another shot with a blaster. He caught Gaster right in the face, though it didn't seem to do much other than make him stumble.

" _Enough_ ," Gaster ordered, but neither of you listened to him. After all this time, you and Sans still moved like one person in two separate bodies. Even though you had to avoid getting within arm's reach of Gaster, and Sans couldn't let himself get hit even once, you made it work. You ducked and weaved around each other, splitting Gaster's attention such that he couldn't focus on either one of you long enough to do any damage. You even shared weapons; at one point, you balled up one of your chains and slid it across the ground to Sans when he was pinned to the floor by blue magic. Instead of disappearing like it usually would when it left your hands, your chain remained intact as Sans grabbed it whipped it in Gaster's face. Like Sans was simply an extension of you, and even your magic weapon knew it.

Eventually, though, Gaster got the better of you. His eyes were on Sans, so you hadn't been expecting a blaster to materialize behind you. You heard the sound of it gearing up to shoot, but it wasn't enough of a warning for you to dodge it completely. A searing pain lanced through your body as it caught you in the shoulder. It burned through your chainmail armor and charred your skin in an instant. You dropped to your knees and screamed, clutching your shoulder with the opposite hand. The blaster adjusted its aim, and you were forced to make a new shortcut and roll into it, narrowly avoiding a second blast.

Immediately, you found yourself lying on your back in a puddle of someone else's blood. You were back in the hallway... In one of the cells. A mangled corpse was lying right next to you, but you were too pumped full of adrenaline to care anymore. It didn't even give you pause. 

"Are you okay?" Sans appeared beside you through the same shortcut, sliding down on his knees to examine you. 

"I'm fine," you lied. You didn't have time to sit there and be examined by Sans. The sound of the door at the end of the hallway slamming open made both of you flinch. 

"We gotta get out of here," Sans leaned down to whisper in your ear. He jerked his thumb to point out into the hallway, where you knew there to be a shortcut back out to the real world.

"We can't leave Charlie," you hissed. For more than one reason. Not only was he your friend, but- "Gaster only needs one more."

Sans' eyes widened. Clearly, he hadn't known that. You could see him warring with himself in his mind. The two of you could make a dash for the barn shortcut right now and save yourselves, but it would mean sacrificing Charlie and allowing Gaster to go free. Neither of you knew what exactly that would mean.

While Sans might've been conflicted, you'd already made your choice long ago. You pushed him away from you and struggled to your feet, using the wall of the cell for support. Your legs were killing you, but you locked your knees and limped out into the hallway before Sans could stop you. You weren’t about to cower in the cell and wait for Gaster to find you.

He stopped walking when he saw you, a slow, twisted smile appearing on his skull. 

“You have gained some intriguing new abilities since last we met.” His voice sent a shiver down your spine. Your shoulder throbbed… You clutched it again, though the pressure didn’t help much. “But you are not the first human mage I have fought. Let’s just say that they fared much worse than me.” He pointed to his own face, where spindly cracks ran up and down his broken skull.

Behind Gaster, you saw Sans reappear in the mirror room. He darted out of sight… To get Charlie, you guessed. He was letting you be the distraction, this time.

“What’s your point?” you asked bluntly. He took a step toward you, and you backed away hastily. His skull-splitting grin widened. 

“The point, my dear, is that you would not measure up well against those ancient, human magic-wielders. As such, you stand no chance of defeating me.” 

Sans reappeared in your line of sight, now carrying Charlie in the air with blue magic. Before he could get back through the shortcut, however, Gaster lifted his hand and flicked his fingers lazily. Sans was forced to drop Charlie as he was flung through the door and back down the hallway. Gaster stepped aside to let Sans skid past him on the floor, coming to a stop perfectly at your feet. 

"Technically, I already gave Sans here his last chance, but I am feeling generous. I do not want to have to kill either of you. You are far too rare to destroy, and Sans..." he trailed off. His pupils flicked down to watch you reach out and help his son to his feet. "...Leave me the human, and I will spare you both. I will even stay away from you once we are all on the surface, if you so desire. You will never have to hear from me again."

You and Sans looked at each other. You didn't need to say anything. When you looked back up, your right and left eyes were glowing bright blue.

"No," you said in unison.

Gaster did not wait for the two of you to attack first. He lifted Sans up with magic and threw him sideways toward one of the cells. This wouldn't have been so bad, had he not turned the green forcefield on as he flung Sans toward it.

With magic already at your fingertips, you made a shortcut in front of Sans that swallowed him up and spat him out in the opposite direction. Instead of getting sliced into pieces by the cell's bars, he barrelled directly into Gaster, himself.

Sans' body hitting him at full speed knocked Gaster off balance so much that he had to extend a hand to catch himself on the wall. Meanwhile, you sprinted over to him, reaching behind you for the hilt of the knife. The gun had caused him pain, but no other weapon had been able to really hurt him yet. This _had_ to work. 

With a _shhhhhink!_ , you drew the True Knife and, just as quickly, sunk it into Gaster's chest.

There was a moment where it was just you and him... Staring at each other. Sans was just getting to his feet a little ways away, having been dazed by the sudden change in direction and subsequent crash. But Gaster only had eyes for you. He placed his hand over yours on the knife's handle. Frigid, unfeeling bone slid over warm flesh. For that brief heartbeat, you thought it might have worked. You saw the lights in his eyes beginning to die out, and expected his hand to fall away from yours, limp, any second now...

Instead, his grip tightened like a vice around your wrist. He held you close to him and, with his other hand, touched your forehead decisively. 

All at once, you were lost. Your face fell, expressionless. Your racing heart slowed to a resting pace. Cold calmness washed over you as all willpower was sapped from your body.

You'd made a mistake. You belonged to him now.

"NO!" Sans screamed when he realized what had happened. Ordinarily, the sound of his despair would've filled you with icy dread. Now, you were impassive. You looked at Sans' horrified expression blankly as you retracted the knife from Gaster's chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him wipe a hand over his sternum as though merely brushing off a speck of dirt. He tsked.

"That was disappointingly easy."

Against your will, you began to walk forward, the knife still clenched in your hand. Sans walked backward at the same pace. Mechanically, you wiped the knife on the skirt of your chainmail armor, cleaning it of blood.

"Babe, it's me... Please, snap out of it..." Sans pleaded with you. You tried for him, even though you knew it was useless. You screamed and thrashed and fought in your own mind, but nothing worked. You were nothing more than another dead body under Gaster's control.

It was over.

Sans still fought, despite both of you already knowing how this was going to end. He threw up a wall of bones and ran back down the hallway toward the mirror room... You could hear his feet thumping on the ground. Gaster tried to make you draw your chain whip; you felt him reaching for that familiar tingle in the back of your mind. But something about your magic was incorruptible, it seemed, because he wasn't able to force you to use it. Instead, you lowered your vulnerable, armorless shoulder and used brute force to plow your way past the wall of bones. Internally, you screamed at the pain of a hundred shards of bone cutting into your already burned flesh like broken glass. You were compelled to keep walking toward Sans, though... As if you weren't bleeding profusely from countless, shallow wounds. 

When you entered the mirror room, you found Sans in a pitiable position. He was crouched next to Charlie, trying to rouse him with little success. He saw your reflection in the mirror before he saw you. Your likeness was warped in a way that was all too familiar; your eyes were pitch black, while smoke poured out of your every orifice. You were well and truly gone. 

The only way to stop you would've been a blaster to your face, but everyone in the room knew Sans wouldn't do that. He would rather die... And he would, if he didn't do it. You wished he would. You screamed at him from inside your head,

_DO IT! JUST KILL ME!_

But no matter how loud you yelled, you knew no one could hear you. Not even Gaster, who sauntered into the room after you. You couldn't see him, but you felt him behind you. You stopped and waited for him to catch up to you, at which point he slid a possessive hand in your hair and tilted your head back slightly.

"Sans... It did not need to come to this," _you_ spoke the words, though they were not yours. They clawed their way out of your windpipe like insects skittering up your throat and flying out of your mouth.

"Stop," Sans cried, "Please... Don't do that..." Gaster ignored him and kept talking through you,

"I gave you so many chances, and you threw them all in my face. All I want... All I ever wanted... Was to be _free_."

"I know..." Tears ran down Sans' face. He didn't bother wiping them, but let them fall onto Charlie, his hand still gripping the unconscious man's shoulder. "I know... It's my fault..." 

You didn't think he was talking to Gaster anymore.

The hand in your hair slipped away as your feet began to move again. You marched up to Sans, who stood up and stumbled away from Charlie with fear in his eyes.

"Babe, please... Fight it! I know you can... I _know_..."

You pounded on the walls of your mind, but you had already given it your best shot. Sans' belief in you was misplaced. You _couldn't_ do it. You were going to let him down... For the last time. 

Sans' spine hit the mirror. He'd backed up as far as he could go. You walked up to him and pinned him to the glass by his neck. Your fingers tightened around the knife. His hands clutched your wrist desperately, his frantic eyes searching yours for any sign of life. He came up empty.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

...

Something snapped.

It wasn't loud. It wasn't remarkable. Like a soft whisper in the wind, you thought, _No, this isn't how it's going to end._

And it wasn't.

You didn't think Gaster even noticed, or he would've done something about it right away. Would've rectified the fact that, somehow, you'd slipped right out of his grasp. You looked over Sans' shoulder at your reflection in the mirror. Its eyes were perfectly clear. The smoke was gone.

It shouldn't have been possible. Stuff like that only happened in stories. But, even though you couldn't explain it and didn't know how you'd done it, it was true.

You knew you only had a second, at best. You had to make the most of it. 

You could've done any number of things with that moment. But, in your heart and soul, you knew there was really only one viable option. You and Sans couldn't beat Gaster... You could train for your entire life and you would never be powerful enough to strike him down.

But maybe... Just maybe... There was someone who could.

You looked back at Sans' tear-streaked face and, quietly enough that Gaster couldn't hear you, whispered,

"I forgive you."

His eyes widened in stunned realization, knowing exactly what you were about to do... Right before you sunk the knife into his chest. 

There was a deafening _CRACK!_ as the powerful blade split his sternum clean in half. A little, breathy grunt escaped him, but that was all the sound he could make before the lights went out in his eyes. You heard Gaster sigh behind you, no doubt under the impression that he'd won.

As fast as you could, you drew Sans' soul from his dying body and slammed it directly into your own chest.

You screamed. Hot, _burning_ pain ripped through you like wildfire. It consumed every inch of your skin, searing your flesh away. It fell off of your body in strips, flaying you alive until you were nothing but bare bones. Extra limbs burst from your shoulders, their joints cracking as they spread out, yearning to touch the sky. You fell forward against the wall, talons slamming into the mirror and putting little, spindly cracks in the glass. Your screams faded until they were merely the gasping, shuddering breaths of a once-dead creature, now newly reborn. 

You looked up at your reflection and saw a single pair of glowing, blue eyes.

Somewhere out on the surface, the Orion constellation rose over the horizon once more.


	52. E Pluribus Unum

There was a serene moment of silence. You heard nothing but your own rattling breaths, unnecessary as they were. Gradually, your wings lowered... The huge, bloody muscles on your shoulders slowly relaxing and allowing the limbs to fold at your back. You felt vestigial feathers brush lightly on the ground. With an almost amused sense of curiosity, you raised your left hand and drew your soul out of your chest. Black, white, and a dash of purple swirled around each other in harmony. 

You laughed.

This would be over quickly.

You left your soul out while bending down, your talons sliding on the mirror abrasively as you went. Your fingers wrapped around the hilt of the knife and jerked it from the chest of your fallen, skeletal body. With a frown, you flicked off a bit of the dust that coated the blade. The monster's body as a whole, though, did not dissolve into ash. But that was something you would have to investigate at a later time.

Only then did you turn around. You stood up to your full height, cracked your neck, and turned to face your enemy. He looked so... blank. His eyes followed you up, expressionless. _Up_ , because you were taller than him now. You took a bit of satisfaction in that.

It pissed you off that you couldn't tell what he was thinking. He didn't give you any clues in the set of his mouth or the gleam in his eyes. You spread your arms wide and shot him a crooked, antagonistic grin.

"What? Nothing to say?" You cocked your head. "Come on... No monolog? No smug witticisms?"

Gaster clasped his hands behind his back. For a second, he looked down at his former creation, now dead at your feet. Surely, this wasn't the fate he'd had in mind for his would-be clone. 

"I think not," he said dryly, now back to looking you in the eyes again. "This changes nothing."

You had to laugh again at that. As you did, magic seemed to boil in the very marrow of your bones. Your soul, still exposed proudly in front of your chest, pulsed with energy. Gaster had to be able to feel it. Was he afraid? You wanted him to be... Wished he would show it on his face. You wanted him to feel every _ounce_ of terror he'd put you through. 

By the time you were done, you were sure he would. You knew it with absolute certainty.

"Oh, I don't think _that's_ true."

Gaster made a move. You didn't know what he'd been about to do but, as soon as you saw him twitch, your hand shot out in front of you. A tsunami of energy followed the path of your outstretched talons. With the sort of finesse your human half could've only dreamed of possessing, you made the magic swirl around your enemy in an angry, invisible cloud. 

You had no reason to be so confident this would work. In fact, you had evidence to the contrary. The last time you'd tried to trap Gaster with your magic, it had done nothing to him. Now, though... He was so solid, so close to being corporeal, that he was vulnerable in a way he hadn't been when last you met. Instead of being able to slip right past your maelstrom of magic, he found himself caught up in it. 

He tried to pull away... Tried to reach, desperately, for his own magic. But you smothered each attempt. The more he struggled, the tighter you pulled the noose. The light of your soul glinted off of half-visible chains as they constricted around Gaster inescapably. After a minute of silent struggling, he seemed to finally realize the hopelessness of his situation. His mouth fell open, and an ear-shattering scream pierced the void. The air around you vibrated with it; every molecule in the room seeming to cry out in rage. The furious sound didn't strike fear in your heart like it would've before. Instead, it made your soul radiate with satisfaction.

Only now, with Gaster pinned like a butterfly to a board, did you realize how small he really was. He wasn't invulnerable. Both of your halves had built him up in their minds as an almost god-like entity, but it wasn't true. He was just a washed-up scientist who'd gotten a little too full of himself. He was only a monster... And you were _so_ much more.

You stalked toward him, your eyes alight with intoxicating power. 

"That was disappointingly easy," you mocked him once his screams died down. He was left panting and shaking. Bones rattling. And when he looked up at you... Ah, yes. There was that fear you'd been looking for.

"Orion..." Your smile grew when he said your name. You listened, enraptured. You were certain that whatever he was about to say would be a riot. Even though he wasn't that much shorter than you, you crouched down a little just to be condescending. "You are angry. Of course. But let's be reasonable, here..."

"Ha!" you laughed once before standing back up straight. "Reasonable... That's cute. I don't recall you being willing to reason with me when I was strapped to that table." You pointed to the torture device with the tip of your knife. "I'm sure they all begged. But you didn't listen to them, either. Give me one good reason why I should listen to you now."

You gave him the opportunity out of curiosity, not because you had any intention of negotiating. You wanted to hear what he would say... And you wanted to give him a bit of hope that you might listen. Just so you could snatch it away.

"I'm your father..."

" _Don't_ pull that shit," you growled, "You said it yourself... Pap and I were clones. Not your sons. And I have two perfectly good parents, anyway. I don't need another." You smirked, then waved your knife in a tight, circular motion. "Try again... I'll give you one more shot." Gaster's expression fell in dismay, then hardened as he said,

"Do not toy with me. If you hate me so much... If you really have no sympathy for what I've had to endure... Then kill me now."

You raised your brows. You couldn't believe he had the _gall_ to suggest you should feel sorry for him. Maybe you shouldn't have been surprised, though. You couldn't expect remorse from such a vile, selfish creature, even in his last moments. The fact still stung you with disappointment, however, and you were left frustrated with yourself that you had allowed him to let you down one last time.

"Not quite yet." You extended your hand and curled your taloned fingers up, beckoning Gaster's stolen soul forward.

When it emerged sluggishly from his chest, you recoiled in revulsion. With them hovering so near to each other, it was easy to see the similarities between your soul and Gaster's. The blackness that filled the empty space in yours was the same substance that made up the entirety of his. There were small differences, however. While the black in your soul was absolute, Gaster's was... off. It seemed to glimmer in the dim lighting. Like oil, streaks of color gleamed on the surface, trapped in a dark vortex.

"You disgust me," you growled at Gaster, who was now shaking. You weren't sure if it was from the physical exertion of being so drained of energy, or if the shivers were a result of his fear of you. A combination of both, you hoped.

"Wait, please... Consider your actions before you-"

You didn't let him finish before reaching out and snatching his deformed soul up with your sharp claws.

***

You remembered meeting _them_. It was so, so long ago that you'd all but forgotten. But, in your soul, the memory was as crisp as the day you'd experienced it. Preserved forever, locked away in a caged-off place near your heart.

You stood on the rocky shore of a lake. You'd just been let loose by your mentor, an inventor and intellectual, who'd told you to run off and play after a long day of hard work. The trouble was that you didn't have many friends to play with. None at all, in fact. You weren't rowdy or boisterous like the other kids in your village. It didn't particularly bother you, but it did make it difficult to do as your mentor instructed. You wanted so badly to please her... You were incredibly fortunate to have been chosen as her apprentice. She'd had several over the years, but she said you were special. Said you were going to do great things. You didn't want to disappoint her.

So you'd run off, despite knowing that you would find no companionship in your monster peers. Sure enough, when you found some children playing just outside of town, they'd excluded you from their game of hoops. They'd simply ignored you... Continuing on as though you weren't there, loudly and nervously asking to join. You didn't press the issue, leaving quickly so as to minimize your embarrassment. 

Now, you found yourself at the lake, cursing the names of each of the kids who'd ostracized you. Not that you cared. You were special, and they were ordinary. It didn't matter what they thought...

With each name you denounced, you threw a stone into the water. They fell into the lake with satisfying plops, sending ripples out from the center that would eventually reach your bare toes. You had your trousers rolled up so you could stand in the water ankle-deep. Your mentor had chided you the last time you returned to her with wet clothes from playing in the lake, so you tried to avoid that at all costs.

"Whatcha doin'?"

You whirled around. It took you a moment to spot it, but a face was peering at you from within the bushes. A fleshy face with wide, brown eyes. Their black hair was long and wild, and streaks of dirt smeared on their skin. They looked uncivilized and... You wouldn't admit it, but... Quite frightening.

You dropped the stone you were holding and took a hasty step back.

"You're a human!" you pointed out, your eyes narrowing in distaste. 

"Mhmm," they hummed, "And you're a monster. I've never met a monster before."

Your eyes cast around anxiously. You knew there were humans living not too far from your own town, but you'd never actually _seen_ one before. Your species kept to themselves; you were told in no uncertain terms not to go wandering farther into the woods than this very lake, because that would've been crossing the line into human territory. 

You clenched your jaw, then pointed out, "You're not supposed to be here. You've crossed the border just there." You pointed to the other side of the lake. The human tilted their head inquisitively.

"Didn't know there was a border. But fine..." There was some rustling as the human crawled out of the bush they'd been hiding in. When they stood up, you saw that they were about your height. You didn't know how humans aged, but you had to guess they were a kid, too. You watched them run away from you, splashing through the shallow part of the lake until they were on the other side.

"How's this?!?" They yelled back to you. You frowned.

"You got your clothes all wet!" You accused, cupping your hands around your mouth to amplify your voice. "Your mentor will be upset with you!" You couldn't see the human's expression as well from all the way across the lake, but they sounded confused when they yelled,

"My who???"

You huffed, then called back, "Oh, forget it!"

There was a pause. You thought the human might go away. Instead, they cupped their own hands around their mouth and bellowed,

"I'm Micah! What's your name?" You gnashed your teeth together as you tried to decide whether or not to introduce yourself. Would you get in trouble? You didn't see why, but it still felt like you were doing something wrong when you yelled back,

"Wingdings!" There was laughter from the other side of the lake.

"Are you sure? That's a funny name!"

"Of course I'm sure!" you snapped, offended and annoyed. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"No!"

"Well, I do," you lied, then turned around and started walking away. That name was passed down to you from a long line of proud skeletons... You wouldn't stand for anyone making fun of it. Least of all a human. From behind you, you heard Micah holler,

"I'll be here tomorrow, too!"

You couldn't think for the life of you why they would feel the need to tell you that. You didn't respond; you simply disappeared into the forest, trying to think of a suitable excuse to tell your mentor as to why you would be returning to her so early. 

You didn't know if you would get in trouble for it, so you decided immediately not to mention your brief conversation with Micah.

***

Back in the present, you struggled to free yourself from Gaster's memories. You didn't want to see this. You knew where it would inevitably lead. You didn't want to see his perspective as he... as he...

There was no escape, though. If you were going to do this, then you'd have to endure his story. See it through to the end, if that was what it took.

Your eyes burned bright with fierce determination. With your taloned hand, you began to squeeze.

***

You didn't know why, but you kept coming back to the lake. You told yourself that it was because it was your favorite spot, and you weren't about to let some human take it away from you.

But, looking back... You knew that wasn't really the reason.

Micah was exciting in a way that your life never was. They always had so much energy... Always had ideas for things the two of you should do together. Most of the time, you just followed along with whatever wild suggestion they came up with. Be it fighting with wooden sticks that you pretended were swords, or sneaking out from your respective villages at night to look at the stars together. On one occasion, they even brought a rope and taught you how to swing off of a tree and jump into the lake. You got scolded by your mentor for having wet clothes again, but you didn't much care that time.

Quickly, you found yourself becoming enraptured by them.

"You're so smart, W.D.," Micah complimented you one day while the two of you sat back to back, leaning against each other as you picked petals off of the flowers you'd gathered. "And your magic is so cool! Do you think I could learn to do magic, too?"

To show off, you used blue magic to lift one of the flowers from your pile and deposit it into Micah's lap. They giggled joyfully. You smirked.

"Maybe. Not all humans can do magic, but some can. You would need a mentor, though, and I bet there's no mages in your provincial village."

Your response was condescending, but Micah didn't take it as such. They never seemed to notice when you were rude to them... Which was good, because you were rude a lot. Not on purpose. It just happened without your say-so sometimes, and you didn't notice until after you said something mean.

Instead of being put-off, they quickly whirled around to face you. You weren't prepared for this, and fell backward when their supportive weight was suddenly gone. They didn't apologize, but simply knelt over you as they asked, excited,

"Will you be my mentor, W.D.?"

You blinked. You couldn't place it, exactly, but there was something about them that was just... _captivating._ Maybe it was the way the sun glistened in their dark hair. Maybe it was their wide, enthusiastic eyes... Always bursting with life. 

Whatever it was, you didn't even think twice before agreeing. 

***

Gaster screamed. He thrashed so hard that he almost escaped your restraints. The worst part was that you felt the pain, too. You hadn't been prepared for that. The ripping, tearing agony was all too familiar... Like every single bone in your body was being shattered, then healed, then shattered again. Over and over and over...

You didn't cry out like he did, though. You bared your teeth and embraced it. Your eyes squinted against the torturous suffering, your vision narrowing until you could see nothing but Gaster's sickly soul. 

Your long fingers squeezed a little harder... Until colors began to bleed out from the surface of the black oil.

***

“I don’t think I understand,” Micah admitted. They rocked back and forth, their legs crossed in front of them. “Why do I have to show you _my_ soul, when you won’t show me _yours_? It doesn’t seem fair.”

“Because monster’s souls can’t escape their bodies,” you explained, trying your hardest to be patient, “I can’t show you my soul. It just doesn’t work that way. And besides, I don’t need my soul out to do magic. You do, though… Or at least, the book I read said it would help.”

Your mentor had a great many books in her study, and you had been fortunate to find one written by human mages. "Accessing Your Inner Magick" was tucked neatly in your bookbag, though you weren't sure why magic was spelled with a "k". Humans certainly were strange creatures.

"Okay, fine," Micah relented, "Go on, then. Show me how to do it."

In truth, you knew just as much about this part as Micah. You knew human souls _could_ be taken from their bodies, though you'd never _done_ it before. But you'd been taught the theory of how to do it as part of your self-defense training, in case you ever got ambushed by hostile humans. As you extended your hand and made a beckoning motion, you thought it unlikely that this particular situation had been on your mentor's mind when she'd taught you the technique. 

The little bit of magic worked like a charm, despite your inexperience. Micah's soul burst from their chest with vigor, as though it had been just waiting for you to call it out. Its purple glow filled the clearing with a bright, vibrant light. The color seemed to stain your bones, seeping into your very being. It was _so_ beautiful. None of the sprawling vistas or setting suns you'd ever seen in your young life could compare.

Without even thinking, you reached out for it. It was so breathtaking that you wanted it for yourself. It was like a compulsion. 

When your fingers made contact with Micah's violet soul, you were thrust abruptly into memories that weren't your own. It took you longer than it should've to realize that they weren't yours, though, because the story was so familiar to you. Born to common merchants who wanted better for their only child. Being thrust into book learning at a far earlier age than most children. Being sent off to a distant village for a better education...

All that was missing from Micah's story was the success you'd found in yours. Their life deviated sharply when they were expelled from the academy they'd been enrolled in. They sent a letter to their parents back home asking what to do, and lived on the streets while awaiting a response. But the reply never came. Either the letter had gotten lost somewhere, or their parents were too ashamed of their failure to respond. 

Regardless, Micah didn't have the coin to send another letter, and the situation was too dire to put off, anyway. They felt unsafe living on the cobblestone streets of the large village, as they were shunned by the townspeople who knew of their history at the academy. Instead of continuing on in hiding, they stowed away on a merchant's cart and ended up at a smaller village. They were still without a home, but at least it was without a reputation for troublemaking. People mostly left them be, now... Another vagrant kid wandering the countryside with no friends or family.

Except you. The skeleton monster with the funny name and the captivating, wonderful magic tricks. Seeing yourself through Micah's eyes was humbling in a way that you'd never experienced before. They looked up to you... Felt indebted to you just for giving them the simple gift of companionship.

You didn't want to let them down.

***

A flash of red burst out of Gaster's soul, as though the force of your squeezing had been enough to let it escape the black hole of his heart. Agonized screams left Gaster's mouth, but you were too enraptured by the essence of the red soul to care.

It was only a wisp; not the complete, heart-shaped soul you would have found in a living person. It hovered in the air for a moment before darting away from you and Gaster. It dashed through the open door and down the hallway, where it spun in a frantic circle around some point in the middle. It raced back to you, then back down the hallway again in a flash. It took you a moment to realize what it was asking of you.

The instant you opened up the shortcut to the barn, the red wisp dove into it. You lost sight of it from there, but you felt a flare of hope and joy, and knew that you'd done something good.

You smiled, then squeezed harder.

***

That was not the last time you would touch Micah's soul. The two of you became almost addicted to the experience. The feeling of being in another person's heart and mind was intoxicating... Especially when it was someone you cared for, as you did Micah.

Micah enjoyed the feeling of letting go. Of being in someone else's hands and feeling safe there.

You enjoyed the power. Of possessing something so strong, yet so fragile. Something far more beautiful and good than you could ever hope to be.

Throughout all of this, though, you didn't forget your promise to teach Micah to do magic. They were actually quite good at it, once they made their first breakthrough and produced a spark of fire at their fingertips. Even with your inexpertise, you could tell they would make a powerful elementalist with some practice.

Several blissful years passed in this fashion. You continued to study under your mentor while setting aside as much time for Micah as you could possibly spare. However, this all changed when your village received a direct order from the castle... From the young King Asgore, himself.

"There's a war going on, apparently," you said, breaking the news to Micah in a cold monotone, "All able-bodied monsters are to report to the castle immediately for further instructions."

"A war? With who?" Micah demanded to know, but you didn't have the answers.

"I don't know. The command was vague. All I know is that I have to go..."

"No!" they protested stubbornly. They reached out and grabbed your arm, as if on reflex. "Don't go... We could just run away! No one will know."

"Micah, please." As gently as you could, you pried their hand off of your humerus. "That would be treason. My life would be ruined. I can't... I just can't."

Tears welled in Micah's eyes. They knew you well enough to know that you wouldn't throw away everything you'd worked toward your whole life... You couldn't do that. Not even for them. Instead of arguing, they lunged for you and threw their arms around your neck. You hugged them back just as tightly.

"I'll come back. Just wait here, and I'll come back for you. I promise."

***

Colors continued to soar out from Gaster's soul. A rainbow of light painted the void with beautiful, joyful hues. No longer did the abyss feel dark and empty, but full to capacity with life and hope. The mirror at your back reflected and amplified the spectacular light show tenfold, while you could only stare in awe.

Even as memories kept on flashing in your mind, you couldn't possibly ignore the dancing colors all around you. The overwhelming combination of torturous pain and intense happiness sent tears rolling down your cheekbones. It took everything in you just to keep holding on.

***

When you got to the castle, it was like a whole new world. There were so many monsters; you'd never been to such a large city before. It was overwhelming at first.

You met the King. He made it a point to meet all of the incoming recruits in person, getting to know them and where they'd best fit into the war effort. King Asgore was quick to determine that you would be best suited outside of battle, using your superior intellect to develop new weapons and strategies for fighting the humans.

...You were to be fighting _humans_. 

You were terribly conflicted at first, but it didn't take you long to justify the war to yourself. Of course, not all humans were evil and dangerous, but clearly some were. They were killing innocent monsters to the North. This had apparently been going on for some time, and you just hadn't heard of it. The King only needed to put these few, murderous humans in their places, and all would be well again.

But that wasn't how it went. The more the King cracked down on violence against monsters, the more humans joined the fight. Soon, the kingdom was surrounded by hostility on all sides. Clearly, this was a bigger problem than just a cluster of wayward humans.

When you heard news that your village had been attacked, you were shocked. Micah's town had risen up against your own, and the monsters had been woefully unprepared. Almost everyone you knew was dead...

Including your mentor.

Your perspective shifted. Your opinion changed from "Most humans are good, with a few bad eggs" to "Most humans are evil, with a few decent ones thrown in." Micah, of course, was one of the decent ones.

You buried yourself into the war effort. The faster this skirmish was over, the faster you could get back to Micah. For King Asgore, you worked on developing a deadly, magical weapon that could take out an army of humans in one blast. The invention took longer to make than you'd anticipated. You kept running into problems that you had a hard time fixing on your own. But you were the only scientist left in the castle; all of the others had slowly trickled out to join the battlefield due to the dire need for more monsters on the front lines. You grew accustomed to working alone.

Eventually, you were sent out to battle, too.

The King hadn't expected to make a fighter out of you. But, to his surprise, you were _good_. Your blaster prototype was devastating to the humans... When it worked. Your necromancy, which you'd only used on deceased animals in the past, was useful for raising fallen humans and expanding the size of your army. You won several battles that way, earning great respect and accolades from your King.

It wasn't enough, however. There were too few necromancers left to turn the tide of the war. Your blaster was imperfect... And you were the only one who was capable of wielding it, anyway. 

In short, you lost.

During your last battle against the humans, the King and what was left of his small army found themselves backed against a mountain. You tried to climb it to escape your pursuers, but it was too steep. The humans were gaining on you. King Asgore ordered you all to stop running and make a final stand.

Rather than kill you all, the humans announced that they would spare what was left of your species. Not out of mercy, but as a punishment. They wanted to leave you trapped underground forevermore, left to suffocate in oppressing darkness and despair.

You could do nothing but allow yourselves to be corralled, helplessly, into the mouth of the cave. A line of seven human mages stepped forward, raising their staves and chanting powerful words in unison. You recognized many of the mages from previous battles, but there was one young, dark-haired human on the end who looked especially familiar...

At the last moment, Micah looked up. Your eyes locked one last time.

Then, the barrier rose, and you were plunged into eternal darkness.

Amidst the anguished wails and desperate cries of your fellow monsters, you stood stock still. Frozen. It was then that you knew... _All_ humans were evil. There was not an ounce of goodness in any one of their souls.

***

The colors continued pouring out of Gaster’s soul. They shot up into the air, then made a dash down the hallway toward the shortcut to the surface. Keeping yourself focused on the present enough to maintain the restraints around Gaster, keep the exit shortcut open, and continue squeezing the lives out of his soul took all of your strength. You felt your stamina begin to wane...

The shortcut in the hallway flickered closed, and the newly freed souls buzzed around it in a panic.

***

The first decade or so underground was by far the lowest point in monster history. Of the thousands of monsters who had once lived freely on the surface, only a couple hundred were left underground. Of those, many passed away within the first few years of imprisonment. They simply fell into a deep depression and withered away to dust.

Those of you who didn’t just lay down and die searched endlessly for a way out. You tried digging first but, after drilling arduously through solid stone, you would inevitably run into the barrier time after time. By using these experimental holes to calculate the curvature of the barrier, you were able to conclude that it was spherical in shape. Despite this, King Asgore ordered his people to continue digging. He told them to look for a chink in the armor, so to speak. He made this order against your recommendation, as you thought it extremely unlikely that there would be any sort of hole in the barrier. When you heatedly accused him of wasting everyone’s time and efforts, he explained to you patiently,

“I understand what you are saying, Wingdings. But if I tell everyone to stop digging, what then? They will know that I have given up. People need to believe there is still hope, or else I am afraid none of us will ever live to see another ray of sunlight.”

After ruminating on that for a few days, you approached the King again with a better solution. 

“Let me look for a way past the barrier,” you suggested. Instead of being dead and cold, your eyes were alight with life for the first time since you’d been sealed down here. “If people know you have someone working on it, they’ll still have hope. But they won’t have to waste their time digging uselessly.”

The King liked the idea. He named you the Royal Scientist, called you “Doctor Gaster,” and made a show of giving you whatever resources you asked for. He did his utmost to inspire confidence in you to the public, and it worked. They stopped digging and started living their lives, improving their underground living situation little by little. In the meantime, they trusted you to find a solution. Trusted you to guide them out of the darkness.

You could not let yourself fail.

_”ENTRY NUMBER ONE…”_

***

You felt yourself slipping. You couldn’t reopen the shortcut; it was taking all of your energy just to hold Gaster down...

***

The time machine failed.

Or, rather, it succeeded, but your fundamental misunderstanding of the problem meant that it had been a doomed venture from the start. The barrier was not simply a magical wall erected to keep monsters out. It marked the edge of a completely different universe. A new dimension, created specifically to keep monsters from ever returning to the surface. You could not travel back in time to before its creation because, as far as this universe was concerned, there _was_ no before. 

The worst part about the failure was not that it complicated the problem significantly. No… The worst part was having to relive _years_ of lost time. The most terrible years of your life, and you had to redo them all. 

It was maddening. You almost didn’t make it. The only thing that kept you going was the desire to finish writing your book on necromancy. You’d saved several invaluable tomes by snatching them up during your flight from the castle to the mountain, but none on the topic of your own ancient craft. You were the last necromancer alive… Before you withered away and turned to dust like the rest, you had to write it all down so, hopefully, it wouldn’t die with you.

However, toward the end, you had another idea. You sketched up a rough schematic and presented it to the King, who granted you the exorbitant funds you would need without question. He was just happy you were getting back to work after having long since given up on the time machine.

Construction on what you dubbed “The Core” proceeded smoothly... For a while. The team you were given to work with was incompetent. No one else who had survived the war could hold a candle to your intelligence. You tried teaching several of the brightest ones, but even they proved impossible to work with. 

You hated yourself for thinking it, but you wished Micah were with you. Despite their heinous betrayal, you missed them terribly. So much time had passed that they were surely dead by now. Even if you got back to the surface, you would never see them again. Would never get the chance to ask why they did what they did. Would never get to hold their soul in your hands…

You would never admit it... Not even in your journal… But you were lonely. And you needed a competent assistant, anyway. 

The King and his wife had two young ones. They all seemed so happy together. Maybe you should make two…

Asgore approved of this. He thought it would be good for you to have children to take care of, though you were staunchly opposed to his phrasing. They weren’t _children_. They were clones. Assistants. That was all.

But the clones turned out more… independent than you felt entirely comfortable with. They weren’t identical to you. That was by design, but they proved to be a little too far off the mark. A little too much for you to handle.

You weren’t cruel. When they turned out to be more like actual babies than the tiny copies of you you'd been going for, you dutifully treated them as the children they were. You named them, fed them, read to them… Even played with them, though you weren’t very good at it. You seemed to have forgotten how to play at some point during the war. 

Mostly, though, you passed them off to babysitters while you worked on the Core. But you made it a point to not abandon them when they turned out to be more work than you’d wanted. You did still need assistants, after all. It was just going to take a little while for them to get to that point.

You maintained complete control over their education from day one. They would be the most intelligent monsters in the Underground, second only to you. That much was a given… Or so you’d thought. As they progressed through the schooling system you’d devised for them, it became apparent that one was struggling more than the other. 

The second one you’d made - Papyrus - quickly fell behind. Sans, being the elder, was of course farther along than his brother. But, even when comparing Papyrus’ exam scores to Sans’ old ones when he was at the same age, you could see plainly that the younger clone was doing markedly worse. You tried everything… From changing your teaching strategies, to simply spending more time with him. If anything, he only fell farther behind.

Sans, meanwhile, was adequate. He started joining you in the lab before he was fully grown. He was very eager to please you, and you didn’t see any harm in letting him get some practical experience. 

This, as it turned out, was a huge error on your part. You’d failed to account for sibling rivalry. The clones had always gotten along well enough… Never particularly close, but they didn’t fight. That changed when you started showing unintentional favoritism. Sans was smug about being allowed to work with you in the lab, and Papyrus was moody. The younger of the two became frustrated with himself for his continuous failures. He took it out on Sans and then, when he was a bit older, on you.

“I HATE THIS!!!” he proclaimed loudly one day, slamming his mathematics textbook closed. “WHAT HAS CALCULUS EVER DONE FOR ANYONE, ANYWAY???”

“Plenty,” you retorted, beginning to lose patience after several months dealing with this sort of disrespect. “Understanding it is key to the design of the Core, for one thing.”

“Well, maybe I don't want to work on the Core…” Papyrus’ mumble had clearly not been meant for your ears, but he was notoriously bad at speaking quietly. Now more than a little irritated, you slammed your hand on the table. The sound made the teen jump in his seat with fright.

“You _will_ assist in the construction of the Core," you hissed, leaning far over the table to get in Papyrus' face. "I don't care if all you can do is haul supplies back and forth like a common packmule. I have spent too much time on you for you to just _decide_ you don't want to help." 

To your surprise, he relented. Your clone averted his gaze, reopened his textbook, and, without a word, went back to his calculus assignment.

The next day, Papyrus ran away.

Sans was quite certain he'd come back, but you knew better. Once Papyrus made up his mind about something, that was it. 

He got that particular trait from you.

You never went looking for him. He never came back to you. When it became clear that he would not be returning, Sans was infuriated on your behalf. But you weren't angry, necessarily. You were only disappointed in yourself for wasting so many hours raising him, then trying to teach him, only for him to throw it all back in your face. 

You needed to concentrate all of your efforts on the Core. No more assistants. No more distractions.

***

You struggled to keep holding onto your enemy. He seemed to get slipperier and slipperier the longer this went on. Not only did you need to keep a grip on him, but you had to get that shortcut open so the lost souls could escape...

Suddenly, from out of Gaster's soul came a burst of bright green. Instead of flying down the hallway to join its peers around the closed shortcut, this soul hesitated. With involuntary tears streaming down your face, you watched it hover above you. With its mind made up, it dove back down toward you and fluttered around your skull wildly. 

You felt an explosion of joy radiating from the green soul. It enveloped you like a warm, hearty hug. Your spine straightened, your wings fanning out behind you. You couldn’t hear it speaking any words, but you felt certain that it was encouraging you on. Telling you that you could do it. Demanding that you pull yourself together and kick Gaster in the ass for him.

You laughed. As you did, the shortcut in the hallway blew wide open once more. All of the trapped souls suddenly raced out into the barn. The green soul circled around you one last time before following them, disappearing out of sight.

With renewed strength, you refocused your energy and tightened your grip on Gaster’s soul.

***

When the final, catastrophic failure occurred, Sans was the only one who still remained by your side. Papyrus had abandoned you, and you'd fired all of the other workers. But Sans always stuck with you... Even became a fairly competent apprentice by the end. He was the only person who'd never let you down. The only one who you would remember fondly afterwards...

You didn't even feel it when it happened. One moment, everything was fine. Sans was in the lab monitoring readouts from the Core. You were inside of the cockpit at the center. waiting for Sans' go-ahead to start it up. You were going to attempt to escape the confines of this dimension for the very first time. 

Sans gave you the word, and you flicked the switch.

The effect was immediate. You didn't hear the explosion. Didn't feel the searing heat. Didn't feel your own body, in fact. You perceived nothing at all for a very long time...

Eventually, you saw a rectangular shape. Everything was black, but the outline of this freestanding rectangle was just barely visible. Eagerly, you willed yourself to move toward it. It was the only thing that existed, after all. Of course you needed to inspect it.

The shape seemed backlit, despite there being no obvious sources of light. As you approached it from some distance away, you felt your mind clearing somewhat. You'd been in a fog for so long... You barely even knew who you were. It all started coming back the closer you got to the rectangle. 

You didn't notice that gravity was missing until you wondered which way was up. The mere act of thinking that question caused an answer to spring up for you. The feeling of weightlessness disappeared, and you felt, inexplicably, that you were facing upright. You continued to move toward the rectangle, which was much larger and farther away than you had initially thought. 

You noticed other things on the way. Like that you didn't have legs. Or hands. Or, really, any mass at all. 

You stopped moving. Panic buzzed in your head... Wherever that was even located. What _were_ you? _Where_ were you? How did you get like this? The last thing you remembered was starting up the Core...

It was impossible to tell how long you hovered there having a mental break. Perhaps you would have screamed if you'd had a mouth with which to make sound. Or perhaps you would have passed out if you'd had a body that could faint. But neither of those things happened, and you simply stayed still for a while until you got over it. You started heading toward the rectangle again, now with more trepidation.

When you got close enough, you began to see an indistinct figure taking form inside of the rectangle. Was this a cage of some sort? The creature was terrible to behold; a mass of thick, black smoke that churned in its own, private storm. As you approached its glass prison, so too did it approach you. It had no features to define it. It was just a _thing_ that seemed to exist for no purpose.

You tried to go around the enclosure to see it from the other side. But, not only did it follow your every movement, there _was_ no other side. The glass was on a flat plane; there was nothing behind it. 

It was a mirror.

...What the hell happened to you?

***

You were getting close. The more colors that flew out of Gaster’s soul, the more you started to notice him losing physicality. First his feet, then his legs, then his torso were all reduced to insubstantial black smoke. The void itself started to fade, too. You could no longer see the cells or walls of the hallway; you could only see your open shortcut amidst a vast expanse of nothingness. As you watched, even the door vanished in a cloud of angry smoke. You were so close…

***

Time passed. You had no way of knowing how much, or if time as a concept even existed in this place. You went through cycles of lucidity. There were times when your mind was as sharp as they day you'd started the Core, and times when you were incapable of forming a cohesive thought. You didn't know which was worse.

During the times when you were able to, you worked on finding a way out. This seemed impossible at first, given that there was _nothing_ in this void for you to work with. But you had to try... You had to keep on hoping.

Eventually, you made a breakthrough. You discovered some new magic, as though it had been locked inside of you all along. It was difficult but, if you concentrated hard enough, you could see things. Other worlds. Sometimes familiar scenes from the Underground, but other times... Sunlight. The surface.

You were convinced that the Core had worked; a part of you must've gotten past the barrier if you could see the surface now. You just had to get the rest of you there, then bring everyone else with you somehow...

The second part of that plan ended up being easier than the first. Not that any of it was easy. Observing the outside world was one thing, but interacting with it was a whole other level of difficulty. Given a lot of time and patience, you discovered how to manipulate the humans' technology. You could create and destroy things there in a way that was impossible for you in the physical realm. This would turn out to be the key to your success.

Buried in the fabric of the universe, there was a wayward string that seemed to connect the surface to the Underground. You would never have found it, had you not been in a unique, third-party position outside of both dimensions. You pulled on that string experimentally. Delicately wove it into something almost tangible, tugging the Underground and the surface closer together as a result. You worked at this until they were so close, they were practically merging into one another. But, though you could do this much, you still couldn't affect real, physical change. You needed someone else to break the barrier.

So you unleashed your precious thread onto the humans. You hated to be in a position where you had to put your faith in humanity, but someone from the outside had to complete the connection. You'd gotten it _so close_ , it wouldn't take much. You just had to hope the right human would come across it...

And they did. They were infuriatingly incompetent at times. They almost ruined everything on several occasions. But, though they took far longer than they had any right to, they did eventually stumble upon the right path. The barrier broke. Finally, you could say you had fulfilled your promise to free everyone.

Everyone except yourself.

Foolishly, you'd half-hoped that, with the barrier gone, something else would snap and allow you to go free on the surface, too. Of course, that wasn't what happened. Nothing changed in your little corner of hell. 

You found yourself pacing in front of the mirror, your smokey body churning with anxiety. In the corner of the room, a desk which you had willed into existence long ago was in disarray. Scattered notes were strewn on its surface haphazardly, but reviewing them never brought you any closer to escaping the void. Even after all of this time, you still had no idea where you were. All you knew was that it was not the Underground, and it was not the surface. The worst part was that there were several different methods you could've potentially used to make an escape attempt, but you knew you were too insubstantial to last a second out in the real world. Your lack of body and soul would cause you to disintegrate immediately.

Knowing that there was an exit, but not being able to take it, was the ultimate torture. You _had_ to get out. You'd been here for millenia. Only the seemingly eternal quest of breaking the barrier had kept you semi-sane for this long. But, without anymore problems to solve, you knew you would lose your mind sooner rather than later. 

You hovered in front of the mirror and took a good look at yourself. The human who'd unknowingly been working with you to break the barrier... They'd given you an idea. A way to possibly become whole enough to finally leave. You could set foot on solid ground once again. Could feel wind on your face, sun on your bones...

All you wanted was to get out of the void. And if that meant sacrificing a few humans... Didn't they deserve it? They were the ones who'd put you here. Who'd tried to doom your entire species. Who were still, to this day, keeping monsters confined on a small plot of land like a herd of cattle. It was only fair for a handful of them to pay the price for what they'd done.

Ultimately, though, you didn't do it to exact revenge against humanity. You didn't want another war. You didn't even particularly enjoy hurting any of them.

You just wanted to be free.

So you did it. You lured them to the void. You took the essence of their souls for yourself, leaving them dead on the floor. The first few times were messy, but you learned quickly. As you started to regain your skeletal form and become more solid, it got easier to shape the void to your will. You devised a table to strap your victims to. You made rooms to contain the bodies. 

It was messy in more than just the logistical sense. After the first time, you almost gave up the venture entirely. Watching the child with the red soul cry and beg for mercy, seeing his life flash before your eyes, feeling his unbearable pain before his agonizing death... It was almost too much. Once you took his soul, you finally had a mouth with which to scream. And scream, you did.

But you came up with ways to deal with the emotional burden, too. You forced them to strip out of their normal clothes and change into hospital gowns. It helped when you made them all the same... Non-individualistic. You tried to take children rather than adults. Their lives were shorter, so you didn't have to relive as much when you touched their souls. Once they were gone, you turned their faces away from the hallway so that you wouldn't have to see their dead, accusing eyes every time you walked down that way.

By the time that troublesome human showed up again, your ritualistic routine allowed you to feel nothing but contempt for your victims. You just wanted this all to be over with as soon as possible. So you took the wayward human who had wandered into your grasp, just like you would have done to any other.

They weren't just like any other, however. For one, they were the object of Sans' infatuation. You could see why when you brought out their soul. There was a part of him - a part of _you_ , really, since you were the one who had given him life - swirling around inside of their heart. That would, undoubtedly, make everything much more complicated. But, in the end, you knew you would be doing Sans a favor. Getting involved with a human, especially one like this, was a dangerous game that would only end in heartache. Or worse.

For another... They reminded you so much of Micah, both in demeanor and in their relationship to your clone. You hadn't thought about Micah in a long, long time, but you couldn't avoid the intrusive thought when you laid eyes on the human's soul. It was purple, just like theirs...

So, when the human not only lived, but used advanced magic to escape your grasp, you knew you should not have been surprised. All you could do was laugh. 

You looked forward to the day when you inevitably crossed each other's paths once more.

***

Finally, it happened. The moment you saw that red wisp escape Gaster's soul, you knew it eventually would. Sure enough, as you squeezed the last victims out of the black hole that was Gaster's wretched heart, a burst of purple light flew into the air. You only saw it for a second before it dove back down, the missing puzzle piece crashing right back into your soul where it belonged.

 _Life_ flooded your bones. Every part of you felt electrified as the purple chased away the black void in your soul and took its rightful place. You hadn't realized how dead you'd been until you suddenly weren't anymore. Your tears of pain turned to that of joy. You were _whole_ again.

Meanwhile, Gaster was looking worse than ever. He didn't look like a skeleton anymore, but had reverted back to a shapeless mass of black smoke. Although you could feel his soul still clutched in your hand, it was nearly invisible with how utterly black and empty it was. The void and everything he'd created within it was gone. All of the fragments of souls he'd absorbed had escaped. He was nothing.

Now that you were caught up on his memories, you could _feel_ him. His hopelessness... His fear... His desperation. He no longer had a mouth to speak with, but you could still hear his thoughts.

_Please..._

You tilted your head, appraising his blank soul next to yours, which shined like the sun against all of the black nothingness around you. A sarcastic, lopsided smile twisted on your face. Before you even said anything, Gaster already knew it was over.

"Such a long life, but, ultimately, a meaningless one. Tell me... How does it feel knowing that you'll die without anyone ever knowing your name?" You leaned forward a little and gave his decayed soul a sharp squeeze with your talons. You felt the pain just as intensely as he did, but it was well worth it to you.

_Please don't kill me... Have mercy..._

Slowly, your expression fell. You loosened your grip on his soul while the fingers of your left hand tightened around the knife. You raised it high above the empty heart while listening to his frantic pleas for forgiveness. During a quiet moment, you spoke in a deep voice laden with true remorse,

"This _is_ a mercy."

You struck downward. The knife pierced his soul. It shattered in your hand, and the cloud of smoke in front of you disappeared without fanfare.

In an instant, you were left holding the knife over your empty hand. Alone. The magic that had been keeping Gaster in place petered out, suddenly lacking a target. You stood there for a long moment... Simply frozen in time. You could hardly believe what you'd done.

Gradually, your hands fell to your sides, the knife held limply in your left. Eventually, it fell from your fingers completely. You didn't bother picking it back up.

The loss of its weight in your hand spurred you into action. You looked around, surveying the damage. Mechanically assessing the pieces you were going to have to put together.

First and foremost, you turned around and walked back toward the mirror, your gate stiff and awkward as you adjusted to this new, but still familiar body. The mirror was the only piece of the void that still remained; it seemed to be an intrinsic factor of this dimension, unreliant on Gaster's presence to maintain it. Delicately, you ran your talons over the spindly cracks you'd made in the surface of the glass. The damage distorted your reflection a little, but you still looked like yourself. Your soul was back to its usual white and purple, the colors mingling together while they held each other close. Gently, you pressed the soul back into your chest, where it disappeared. The void was much darker without its brilliant light.

Your talons slid off of the mirror, and you nodded towards it respectfully. Whatever this thing was, whatever its purpose may have been... It was probably best not to mess with it any more than you already had. Instead, you crouched down and examined the body that lay slumped against it. The little skeleton had yet to turn to dust. Perhaps something about its partial humanity kept it from fully disintegrating like a normal monster would. 

That was good. It would've been a problem otherwise. With extreme care, you wrapped your arms around its limp bones and settled it on your shoulder. The remnants of the human's armor, which had burst into pieces during your transformation, slid off of the skeleton's body when you picked it up. It weighed next to nothing; you could barely even tell it was there. He was so delicate and small in death...

Next, you walked the short distance over to where Charlie lay. To your surprise, his eyes were open. He stared at you as you approached, his jaw slack. At some point, he must've figured out how to get his soul back into his chest, because it was no longer visible. Suddenly self-conscious, you rubbed the back of your skull sheepishly.

"Uh... Hey."

The sound of your voice was too much for him. His eyes rolled back, and he slumped to the floor once more. Poor guy... You hadn't meant to make him faint. You gave Charlie the same gentle treatment as Sans, lifting him up and balancing his weight on the same shoulder. 

There was one last thing you had to do. You walked over to about where the table used to be, bent down, and picked up your cane. It had been through so much with you... You couldn't possibly leave it behind.

With all of that taken care of, there was nothing left for you here. Only broken, dead bodies lying in the black nothingness. You wished you could take them all with you to give them some kind of burial. But that wasn't feasible. And besides... The physical bodies didn't matter, anyway. Their souls were at rest, and that was all that really counted.

You walked between the death and gore one last time before disappearing through your shortcut.

When you stepped out into the barn, you were overwhelmed by the fresh air. You felt like you hadn't experienced it in centuries, even though it had likely only been an hour or two. You took a deep breath and inhaled the crisp, mountain breeze. It was pleasantly cool; the sun had set a while ago. When you looked up, you saw the stars through the holes in the ceiling. You smiled, closed your eyes, and just breathed for a minute. 

In and out. Nice and slow.

"Hey!" A frightened voice jolted you from your serene moment. You snapped to attention and looked toward the barn door. A figure was lying on the ground, dragging himself toward you on his elbows. "The fuck did you come from?!? What happened to-"

"Shut up," you ordered. Your tall, monstrous stature was imposing enough that Samuelsson did as you said, though only for a moment. The two of you stared at each other for a beat until he started up again,

"Is that Charlie? But... Where's Hernandez? And all the others?" he asked, his voice weak enough that you thought he might already know the answer. Still, you responded bluntly,

"Dead. Like I told you." You began to walk toward him at a brisk pace, made even faster by the length of your gangly legs. At your back, you could still feel the open shortcut to the void. It sent a shiver up your spine. 

You had to get rid of it. You didn't know how, but you knew you could. With magic stirring like an undying storm in your bones, you felt like you could do just about anything you put your mind to.

"Like _you_ told...?"

You didn't bother clearing up Samuelsson's confusion. You had much more important things to do. Without turning to look at it, you focused on the shortcut with all of your might. A strong tingling sensation buzzed in the back of your skull. Your eyes flared up a bright blue as you willed your magic to swirl around the shortcut on all sides.

Without stopping in your march, you leaned down and scooped Samuelsson up by the collar. He yelped as the motion jostled his mutilated leg, but you didn't much care. You simply dragged him out of the barn... Well out of the danger zone before blowing the shortcut as wide open as you could get it. The buzz in your mind graduated to a ringing sound that seemed to reverberate in every bone. You huffed, your eyes flaring brighter as you gave it another burst of energy. 

Suddenly, something snapped, and an explosion sent a sonic boom blasting out from inside of the barn.

" _FUCK_ ," Samuelsson screamed. You imagined the sound must've been quite unpleasant for someone with eardrums. As the blast swept over the forest, it made the tops of the surrounding trees sway dangerously far forward. You heard many loud, metallic bangs and alarming cracks of wood splintering as something big came crashing down in the barn. Perhaps the loft had collapsed. Faraway birds let out shrieks of fear into the night as the boom caught up with them. Belatedly, the alarm on your crashed Honda started going off.

You didn't need to go back into the barn to check. The shortcut was destroyed... No one would be going into the void ever again.

Unceremoniously, you dropped Samuelsson on the dirt. You didn't really feel like taking him with you. You weren't in a very generous mood at the moment.

Instead, the injured human watched with a slack jaw as you disappeared through a different shortcut, seemingly vanishing without a trace into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My planning doc for TAR, alone, is 52 pages long... But [this screenshot is all you really need to know about my planning process.](https://imgur.com/a/X3zSPHH)


	53. Number 13, Ebott Street

When Charlie awoke, he didn't remember what had happened at first. A hazy fog suppressed his memories, protecting him from their horror for a little while longer. His confusion wasn't helped by the fact that, when his eyes squinted open, he found himself in a familiar place. His room in the guard's basecamp. The one he used to share with Hernandez when they didn't have night shifts, but that he now had all to himself. None of the other guards could stomach the thought of taking a dead man's bed. Charlie understood; he could barely stand to stay in here anymore, himself.

Seeing how dark the room was, Charlie groaned and buried his face in his pillow. The sun wasn't up yet... He wouldn't have to go into work for a while. He should get some more sleep before his shift started.

Something felt off about this, though. For one thing, he was fully clothed. Why hadn't he changed out when he got back from work last night? The clothes were dirty, too. He could feel them sticking to his sweat-soaked skin. And then there was the smell... Was that... Blood?

He furrowed his brow and opened his eyes again. It had been too dark for him to notice the first time but, now that he was more alert, he could plainly see a huge, hulking intruder sitting stock still on Hernandez's bed.

Charlie yelled wordlessly and shot up ramrod straight. He lunged for the gun that was supposed to be on his nightstand, but he recognized the figure before his hand got there.

"Orion!" There was no mistaking the huge skeleton with the long, spindly wings. That was probably where the smell of blood was coming from; the monster always had a faint, metallic odor about them. They were hunched forward awkwardly, which pretty much defined Orion's stature at all times. Their wings were half-splayed out. They were incapable of sitting with their wings folded on the bed but, due to the small size of the room, they couldn't completely stretch them out, either. They were leaning forward with their elbows resting on their knees, their smaller hand clasped in the larger, weaponized one. 

They stared at Charlie with a somber expression, unaware of how close they'd come to getting shot. However, upon glancing at his nightstand again, Charlie realized his gun wasn't even there. That, combined with Orion's unexpected presence, brought the memories flooding back.

Charlie took a deep breath. Slowly, he lowered his outstretched hand and sat up straight on the edge of the bed, facing his oversized guest. Orion tilted their head and asked in a deep, concerned tone,

"How do you feel?"

For a second, Charlie thought they were asking about how he felt emotionally. But then, he remembered his wrist. He lifted it up and flexed it, stunned at how utterly normal it felt despite it having been shattered by...

He shuddered, then answered gruffly,

"Good." To avoid having to think about that for just a little while longer, he asked, "What did you do to it?"

"Healing magic," Orion responded shortly. They scooted a little closer to the edge of the bed and held up one of their talons. "Follow my finger."

He did as they instructed without really knowing why, shifting his gaze back and forth to follow the movement of their claw. As he did, he commented,

"Didn't know you could do that."

"Me neither," they said, then added in a monotone, "I'm just full of surprises today. Get up and walk in a straight line."

Charlie snorted back laughter, then got up and walked obediently. As he did, he noticed another, smaller figure slumped against the wall by the door. Sans had been divested of his shirt, and a bandage from Charlie's own first aid kit was wrapped tightly between his ribs around his sternum. His chest wasn't moving. Why, then, had Orion bothered to fix him up...?

It was a short walk through the center of the room, but Charlie figured his balance seemed pretty good from his perspective. When he got back in front of Orion, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and asked,

"Whaddya think, doc? Am I concussed?" Unamused by his antics, Orion tilted their head and answered his question dutifully,

"I don't think so. The healing seems to have worked." Charlie sat back down, his eyes glancing back to Sans' body before returning to stare at Orion. The monster looked back at him impassively, seemingly waiting for Charlie to talk first.

"I saw your soul back there," he confessed, "You're... Not who I thought you were, huh?"

Charlie wasn't stupid; he could put two and two together. The conspicuously absent human. The dead monster. The two-toned soul. He would've figured it out much sooner, had he known it was possible for two people to combine their souls into one like that. Ridiculously, he felt kinda jipped. Like he'd gotten to the end of a mystery novel and the solution ended up being something completely random. Something he'd never been given enough information to guess on his own.

"Yeah..." Orion's wings twitched nervously. The beady, white lights in their eyes slid to the side as they avoided looking at Charlie. "Sorry about that. They should've told you everything. They both have a tendency to keep unnecessary secrets, even from good friends."

Charlie was oddly touched that Orion considered him a "good friend," but the phrasing of that last sentence raised so many questions. He tapped his fingers on his knees before settling on one.

"So then... Who, exactly, am I talking to right now?"

Orion's jaw clicked in and out of its socket as they thought about how to answer that. Kinda funny how, after all this time, none of their mannerisms had changed. 

"You're speaking to Orion," they answered after some time, "Though you are... Right to question it. Sometimes, one of them can take control. Sometimes it's just... Me. If that makes sense."

It didn't really, but he figured he basically got the gist. Orion was their own person. He was talking to someone other than his two friends, one of whom was lying dead on the floor. Charlie shot another nervous glance at the body, then rubbed his forehead. This was all a lot to take in. Trying to corral the bits and pieces of what he'd been conscious to remember from the incident was more difficult that it should've been. Maybe Orion was wrong, and he really was still concussed.

"He's dead, right?" Charlie asked eventually, his voice higher pitched than he would've liked. "You're _sure_ he's dead?"

"Yes. I am sure."

Orion's assurance left no room for argument. Charlie was inclined to believe them, but it was hard when he hadn't been awake to actually see it happen. There didn't seem to have been a body left behind, either. It was all so abstract... And Charlie preferred to work in cold, hard facts, thank you very much. None of this weird magic, interdimensional crap.

"Well, I don't get what exactly happened..." Orion opened their mouth as if to start explaining, but Charlie held up a hand to silence them. "...And, to be honest, I don't really want to. Maybe later, but not right now. As long as it's done and over with." The blank expression on Orion's face did not inspire confidence, so Charlie added with an almost desperate edge to his voice, "It _is_ over with, right?"

Orion clicked their jaw again and looked over at Sans' body. The darkness and silence in the room implied a false sense of calm when, really, Charlie could feel turmoil hanging heavy over the giant skeleton.

"For you, it's over. For me, there is... much to do." It took a moment for Charlie to understand the implication. When he did, he frowned and leaned forward closer to Orion.

"You're gonna split up again, huh? Is that what you have to do?" 

The skeleton nodded solemnly. Charlie scratched the back of his neck. It was clear to him that Orion needed to talk about this, but he didn't know the first damn thing about what was going on here. _Why_ was it that these two... or three, whatever... always felt like _he_ was the right person to come to with these sensitive subjects? But, regardless of how unqualified he felt, Charlie would try his best to help them out again.

"Can I ask why?"

Orion looked up at him inquisitively. For clarification, they asked, "Why I'm splitting my souls?"

"Yeah." Orion ground their teeth. The abrasive sound of bone rubbing against bone sent an involuntary shudder down Charlie's spine.

"You can ask, but I doubt you'll understand the answer." When Charlie continued to stare at them unrelentingly, Orion sighed and explained, "It doesn't feel right to take their lives away like that. They have friends and family... Things to get back to. It would be a waste to let it all end now."

"Well... You have friends and family, too," Charlie pointed out. As he said it, he wasn't sure why he was trying to convince Orion to stay. He supposed that, when it boiled down to it, he kinda missed the big guy. Even knowing that, on some level, it was really just the other two in disguise all along, there was something different about Orion. They'd been Charlie's first monster friend. The one who, more than anyone else, taught him not to judge a book by its cover. He'd missed them when they'd left before, and he'd miss them again, too.

Who would've thought that a giant, terrifying skeleton monster would be gettin' him all sentimental like this. Orion grinned, as though they could see right through Charlie's half-hearted argument.

"Maybe. But I feel like..." They clenched their teeth, then admitted, "I feel like I kinda failed them the first time around. Didn't split up their souls properly. As a result, they were so wrapped up in each other that they never had the chance to live their own lives, like I wanted them to. They deserve a second chance... I want to do it right, this time."

Charlie had the distinct feeling that there was more weight behind that declaration than what he was understanding. He shrugged it off and said,

"Alright, well... Will you at least visit again before you go splittin' into two different people this time?" Orion's eyes lit up with amusement.

"Sure. If you want me to. It may take a while to figure this out." They gestured vaguely between themself and the skeleton on the floor. "So I'm afraid you're stuck with me until then."

"Okay..." Charlie didn't know whether he should say that was "good" or not, so he just left it at that. 

The silence that followed would've been a good stopping point for Orion to leave, but they didn't. They sat with their hands folded over their muscular thighs, their eyes slipping up to stare at a point over Charlie's shoulder. He kinda wished they would go. Not because he didn't want to talk to Orion, but because he just didn't want to have to look at the body anymore. It wasn't like it was particularly gruesome, or anything... And he knew Sans was right in front of him, very much still alive despite the state of his vessel. But there was something intrinsically eerie about a limp body just sitting there, especially after the things he'd seen tonight. He tried to ignore it, but he kept shooting nervous glances at it, half-expecting it to leap up and attack.

"I'm not looking forward to this," Orion broke the silence solemnly, snapping Charlie out of his anxious, intrusive thoughts.

"What?" The monster - or, rather, the hybrid - smiled bitterly.

"Explaining this to everyone. We weaved such an intricate web of lies, and now it's all going to come crashing down. It'll be for the better, I think, but that doesn't mean I'm looking forward to informing everyone of all the secrets their two friends were keeping from them."

Charlie knew he'd said that he didn't want a complete explanation yet, but that had him curious. Just how much did _he_ still not know? He didn't ask, though. He was sure it would all come out over time. Orion seemed more... forthcoming than the other two. Blunt, to put it less nicely. 

"I'm sure people'll be understanding." He paused, then amended, "Well, maybe not Reives. Actually, I'd recommend just keeping him in the dark." Orion chuckled, their laughter sounding deep and raspy.

"I would, if it weren't for the car incident. I'll have to explain that somehow."

"What car... Uh, nevermind." Charlie waved his hands dismissively. "Good luck with all of that. It'll be shit, I'm sure, but at least you can pin it all on the other two." Orion laughed again.

"Yes, I suppose I could plead innocence. Though I am not sure it works like that." The bed creaked as they stood up, though they had to hunch over to avoid scraping their head and wings on the ceiling. Charlie had to crane his neck to look up at their dark, shadowy figure. "I should be going now. I still need to retrieve Samuelsson." Charlie furrowed his brow, but didn't question that, either.

"Okay. Well, thanks for... Saving me." He looked down while rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. It was just starting to hit him how much they'd sacrificed to get him out of that void alive. He was sure there was more to it than just wanting to save him, but still. On some level, Sans had _died_ for him. That was... a lot.

"Of course," Orion said briskly, as though it were nothing. They looked down at the body, then at the bed they had just stood up from. They pointed at the mattress with a claw. "Do you mind if I steal a sheet?"

"Um... Sure?" Charlie acquiesced, confused. He didn't know what Orion wanted with it, but Hernandez certainly wouldn't be needing his bedding anymore. He refrained from pointing out whose bed it was, though. Orion didn't need that on their mind.

Mechanically, the hybrid stripped the sheets off of the bed. They then walked over to Sans, crouched down, and gently wrapped the body in the white cloth. With the kind of care one wouldn't expect from such a scary-looking creature, Orion picked up the covered body and cradled it in their arms. To be honest, Charlie wasn't sure if the sheet made it better or worse. It was still pretty clear that there was a dead guy under there, only now you just couldn't tell who it was. Orion turned and fixed him with an intense look.

"Get some rest," they ordered. Charlie wasn't sure if that was going to be possible, but he still reassured them,

"I will. See ya later, Orion." The moveable half of their face quirked up in a smile.

"Yes. See you later, Charlie."

With that, Orion stepped forward and disappeared. Charlie blinked, startled by how suddenly empty the room was without their hulking shape. 

He sat there on the edge of his bed for a while before slowly starting to strip out of his uniform. It was pretty gross; his own sweat made the fabric stick to his skin. He was going to have to take a shower before attempting to get some shut-eye.

Thinking about all of the steps involved in washing himself was exhausting, though, so he decided to put it off for a little while. He examined his wrist again, flexing it back and forth while marveling at how normal it felt. He felt like he should've been more badly hurt, given everything that had happened. The feeling of helplessness as he'd been thrown around like a ragdoll wasn't gonna go away for a long while...

But the last thing he wanted to do was ruminate on that. Instead, he stood up and walked over to his chair, sweeping the pile of dirty laundry off of it before pulling it up to the window. He opened the blinds and sat down with his chin resting on his arms, which were folded on the windowsill. The view out the window had become quite familiar over the past year; his room faced North, down the mountain. He couldn't quite see the city over the trees, but he had a pretty nice view of the sky. 

While the rest of the guards slept, blissfully unaware of what had occured that night, Charlie took a quiet moment to himself to trace the stars over Number 13, Ebott Street.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://bluewuf.tumblr.com/) (tag for this fic is "TAR")  
> 


End file.
